Standing Beside the Fallen
by Quiddityy
Summary: AU. During the summer when Harry turns fifteen, things go downhill with the Dursley’s. When Harry manages to escape their abusive clutch and goes to Grimmauld Place, problems and complications arise. Rated for violence and abuse.
1. Essense of Disbelief

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter or any of its characters, ideas, plots, or anything that's come from JK Rowling's head. So I have to borrow the idea in a cheap write off story in order to get a kick.

Summary: AU. During the summer when Harry turns fifteen, things go downhill with the Dursley's. When Harry manages to escape their abusive clutch and goes to Grimmauld Place, problems and complications arise. Rated for violence and abuse.

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Standing Beside the Fallen

Chapter 1 – Essence of Disbelief

So far, Harry Potter's summer vacation was anything but relaxing. Inside Number Four Privet Drive, things were not as pleasant and calm as they appeared to be from the outside. Inside the house, the Dursley's were not the kind and understanding neighbors they tried to portray, as another way to make their lives seem perfect and better than any of the other neighbors on the street. But their lives were far from their version of normal and perfect, and the reason was currently dusting the furniture in the living room, lost in thought and unfortunately, unsuspecting to his surroundings.

Harry could feel the shards of glass piercing the skin on top of his head as the vase smashed and shattered, cutting and embedding themselves into his skin. Out of sheer surprise more than anything else, he screamed and fell to the floor. He could feel the blood trickeling down his face and the excruciating pain passing around his skull. Bright lights shown before his eyes and his vision swam. He willed himself not to keep screaming as he felt his body land painfully on his shoulder. He kept his eyes screwed shut, but even then he could sense the looming shadow above him. It was a monster – an animal. It was likely to kill him.

Something hard connected with his ribs and he felt his body fly forcefully onto his back, shooting pains going up his spine. He felt the crack in his chest rather than heard it over the sounds of his unstifled cry. It was something he could not muffle – the pain was just unbearable. He wanted to pass out, to get away from the pain. There were so many things he wanted at the moment, but it seemed that none was going to be given. For his head started to swim menacingly as he found a thick hand grasping his neck and lifting him so high and forcefully, he was being supported by them as his feet were a good six inches from the ground. Harry slowly opened his green eyes and for the first time revealed his true fear to his attacker.

His uncle's furious face swam in and out of his vision. His face was so close to Harry's that he could see the small pools of swear that shined on his puce skin. He could still smell the putrid hot breath even though his air supply had been cut short by the strangling man. He had been trying unsuccessfully to remove the thick purple fingers from his throat. He was feeling nauseated, but his lightheadedness was worse. He needed to breath!

"How dare you!" His uncle said in a dangerously menacing voice. Spittle flew from his mouth and sprayed Harry's steadily blue face. "How dare you endanger my family? You deserve every ounce of pain you get boy."

The hand let go and Harry crumpled to the ground, gasping deeply for air. He could already feel the bruises forming around his throat and winced as he grudgingly turned and stared at Uncle Vernon's fuming eyes. Harry was sure that behind the anger, he could see a glimmer of glee, as though he were savoring every bruise he placed on Harry's battered body. He knew why his uncle was angry, and why he had resorted to doing this to him, but he was torn in two. He wasn't sure whether he deserved this punishment or not.

His uncle advanced and Harry instinctively threw his arms over his head. It seemed to do no good as his uncle dragged him to his feet, and before he could fall over in pain, a fist connected with his cheek and he fell more forcefully to find two more kicks placed in his back. He yelled in pain, tears falling from his scrunched up eyes, and was only aware from the tremendous pain that he was being dragged up the stairs. He was thrown into his bedroom and he landed hard on the floor, darkness swimming in front of his vision.

"Next time," His uncle hissed. "Don't think I'll be so generous on you. I've said it before and I'll say it again. What you need is a good beating to squash that godforsaken magic from you. And that is exactly what I'm going to do, whether you live to see the end results or not. There is nobody to save you Potter, and nobody to hear your pitiful pleading."

His uncle slammed the bedroom door and Harry heard the unmistakable founds of heavy locks being set in place. He listened, looking up at the blank white ceiling, and he could see the light of the bedroom fading to darkness. He knew that he shouldn't pass out. If he had a head injury, than it would be really dangerous if he did. He shakily got to his feet, holding his head in his hands and groaned.

Slowly, he went and stood in front of the mirror in his wardrobe and his breathing hitched in his throat. Blood was coming from the top of his head, dripping down his brow. A large bruise was forming under his eye, and there was blooding coating his shirt. Hesitantly, he took it off and found a large bruise that was littered with lacerations. He sighed and got out the bandages he had hidden under his floorboard. Slowly, he started to wrap his ribs, conscious to the fact that he knew at least one was cracked or fractured. He had disposed of his bloody shirt and cleaned the matted blood from the back of his head and cleared the shards of glass from his hair. It took a very long time for him to complete this, his body moving slowly as any sharp movement caused him several minutes of intense agony.

Finally, he finished by placing a hooded sweatshirt on, one that was very baggy and less likely to irritate his injuries like a shirt would. He had become aware a while ago that he felt cold, despite the summer heat. He was begging that he wouldn't get sick, because if he did, he may as well be writing his will right now. Harry slowly made his way over to his bed and laid down, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

His uncle had never abused him as fiercely as he had this summer. Usually, it was a few punches, or a few kicks before he got the message across and locked him in his room. But for now it was like a whole summers worth of beatings in one. He wasn't sure how much more his body could take, or how he was going to explain the injuries that couldn't be covered by jeans or long sleeved shirts. It was so much harder now than it was a few years ago.

When he was in primary school, everyone knew he was clumsy, and that he was a troublemaker. Or that's how everyone thought he was. So when he showed up at school with a broken nose or a bruised eye, nobody was even the slightly bit suspicious. But even though his friends at Hogwarts knew he was prone to getting himself in a tight spot, they knew he wasn't clumsy or pick fights constantly for no reason. They knew better. So now he was sure that the excuse of walking into a door, falling down the stairs, or tripping over the street wasn't going to work.

His uncle had been enraged enough to hit him so badly this year due to several reasons. In the beginning it had been his intense build up of hateful magic, everything ranging from Aunt Marge to the ton-tongue toffee with Dudley last year. It didn't help when Vernon started to become an alcoholic. Since then, his uncle had become even more furious and had taken to a schedule of when Harry needed a little reminder of how troublesome, worthless and dangerous he was. Harry shivered when he thought of the insults his uncle had scarred him with. They had run deep, and even though he had grown up with it, he knew he wasn't immune to the insults.

Harry listened as he heard the Dursley's all gathering in the car. They never spoke to him outside beatings and chore assignment, so he never knew where they were going or when they were going to be back. He didn't really care honestly, as long as he knew that they were going to be gone and he was going to be left alone, he was completely fine with it. Harry sighed and felt his ribs shooting pain as he breathed deep. He knew that wasn't a good sign.

He had been drifting in and out of sleep for a few hours, remaining completely on his bed and unmoving from his injuries. It had been the fourth time he had woken up when he had heard a crash from downstairs and heard a curse, and had jumped up. His ribs screamed in protest and he doubled over, taking a shallow breath. He sat up straight, with his eyes closed, his mind racing slightly as he opened them and looked towards the door. Someone was in the house, and he already could tell that it wasn't the Dursleys. Slowly, Harry got to his feet and walked towards the door, taking his wand from the waste band of his jeans and pointing it ahead of them. When the door opened on it's own, Harry jumped and took a step back.

The crash that had sounded from downstairs had told Harry two things. They weren't Death Eaters or burglars as far as he could tell. They would have made the effort to keep quiet. So who was it then? He jumped when the locks on his door clicked loudly and the door creaked open. Harry slowly stepped out of his bedroom and crept to the landing of the stairs. Looking down, it was all he could do not to grasp or jump away from fear when he saw that there were at least three people standing at the door of the stairs.

"No need to be alarmed Harry." Said a familiar voice. Harry's heart skipped a beat when he recognized the voice. He hadn't heard it in over a year, but he would never miss it either.

"Professor Lupin?" He said, trying to keep his voice even as he lowered his wand. The relief he was feeling was pumping through his veins, but in another sense, there was an iron clad gripping his heart. Lupin had always been an intelligent man. Would he recognize the bruises on Harry's face for what they really were? He slowly and cautiously started to descend the stairs.

"Hello Harry," He said pleasantly.

Harry could make out Lupin through the darkness, and flanked behind him were two other people. One he could see as a short haired woman and the other a tall man with a bald head. He reached the last step and the woman behind Lupin whispered something and her wand lit, draining the darkness that had resided in the hallway.

"Wotcher, Harry." She said giving a small smile before it turned into a thoughtful frown. Harry gave her a small smile before looking back at Lupin curiously. Lupin however, didn't seem to notice that Harry was silently looking for an answer as to why they were there. He was looking at Harry's face, worry etched in every line on his own.

Harry grimaced when he noticed they were all looking at him.

"Harry I hate to ask," Lupin said slowly. "But where did you get a black eye?"

He shrugged it off as though it weren't important. "I got into a fight." He answered dismissively, trying to make it plain that he didn't want to talk about it. And it wasn't exactly like he was lying. He did get into a fight, just one he didn't wish to participate in. But he found it was probably best that he didn't elaborate on that and kept silent. He shifted uncomfortably under their gaze and Lupin blinked coming back to himself.

"Well Harry," He said giving off a faint smile. "I suppose I should introduce the people I came with. This," He pointed to the woman on his left. "Is Nymphadora – "

"_Don't_ call me that Remus or I'll hex you so far your ancestors will feel it!" The woman said waving her wand threateningly before turning back to Harry and holding out her hand for him to shake. Harry noticed that she had a shade of violent pink hair that spiked on her head. "It's Tonks. Just Tonks."

Harry smiled and shook her hand.

"And this," Lupin continued, looking as if he were refraining himself from rolling his eyes at the woman, and gestured to the black and bald shaven man to his right. "Is Kingsley Shacklebolt. Both Kingsley and Tonks are Aurors for the Ministry."

He shook Kingsley's hand and turned back to Professor Lupin, a stony look on his face.

"Your wondering why three wizards just showed up here, aren't you?" Lupin said with a smile. Harry slowly nodded. "We are here to take you away."

Inside, Harry was so happy he could have cried. He had a huge urge to jump off the last step and hug his ex-professor but he refrained himself and merely gave a small ghost of a smile.

"So where exactly do we plan on going?" Harry asked slowly, placing his wand in his back pocket of his worn jeans for safe keeping.

"Sorry, but we can't say right now." Tonks said as they all headed into the kitchen. "We can tell you everything once we get there though. But for right now it's best that you go and pack. We have a portkey that should take off in about five minutes."

Harry blinked. "I'm already packed." He said. The three wizards stared at him. "I never unpacked." He shrugged. He bit his lip when he realized his things were locked in his cupboard under the stairs. Uncle Vernon had wanted to put Harry back in there as well, but with his trunk there was no room and Aunt Petunia was afraid Harry would burn the house down with his freaky things in his trunk if he was stuffed in there with it. So instead, they put up some bars and locks around the room and kept him in there like a prisoner. He had to admit though it was better than the spider-infested, musty and dirty cupboard he had known since he was three years old.

"I'll go and get my things, then." Harry said quietly and headed out of the room rather quickly.

He didn't need the key to get to his trunk. He knew how to pick locks, but he hadn't dared do it around his uncle. But now that he was leaving, he could easily get to it without having second thoughts. He took a paper clip from his pocket and straightened it out and started to pick the lock. He hoped that nobody would walk in on him while he was doing this, because he knew he was not up to answering questions. He managed to get the lock open and dragged his trunk out before heading upstairs, leaving his trunk in the hall.

He reached his bedroom and took out his invisibility cloak, his photo album and some of his homework from under his floorboard and grabbed Hedwig's empty cage (who was out hunting at the moment) and headed downstairs. All the clothes he had been wearing was some more of Dudley's old things he had gotten this summer, and he had enough clothes from previous years without adding those rags to his wardrobe. At least the ones from several years ago were just starting to fit . . . almost.

He stuffed everything back into his trunk and headed into the kitchen. Professor Lupin was setting a letter on the counter, Kingsley was sitting at the able looking lost in thought, while Tonks was looking intently at her reflection in the toaster. She was first to notice Harry coming back in.

"Hey, do you think I'd look better with purple hair?" She asked casually, studying the reflection again.

Harry saw Kingsley roll his eyes. "Tonks, please. We know you're just going to change it anyway."

Harry blinked and when he looked at Tonks again his eyes widened. Her face was scrunched up in a pained expression and when she opened them again her hair was purple. Seeing Harry's shocked expression she laughed. "I'm a metamorphmagus. I can change my appearance at will."

The idea of changing his appearance at will seemed very appealing to him. He would be able to cover up the injuries his uncle had given him so that nobody would be suspicious. He would also he able to cover up the damn scar on his forehead so people could stop gawking at him and maybe stop looking at him with high expectations. Because he was far away from the perfect boy-who-lived that everyone thought of him as. He was merely a little coward who couldn't stand up to his overweight uncle. He was a freak, just like Vernon said.

"Harry I left a note for your aunt and uncle to say that you're safe, so they won't worry and that they will see you next summer." Professor Lupin said, starting to rummage in his cloak.

Harry wanted to snort at the irony of the comment. For anything, they would be angry when they noticed Harry wasn't there and wasn't in the slightest way hurt (besides the injuries that his uncle gave him of course). If he was forced to come back here next summer, he knew that there was a chance he wouldn't make it to the beginning of his sixth year. That was if Voldemort hadn't killed him by then. Because if Voldemort didn't kill him, Uncle Vernon would.

"Only a minute until the portkey takes off." Professor Lupin said, holding out a dirty and cracked mirror. "Do you have everything Harry?"

Harry nodded as Tonks took his trunk and Harry held Hedwig's cage. He really wasn't looking forward to traveling portkey. Not that he liked traveling before, but now he was sure that the portkey was going to jar his injuries or cause one of his cuts or lacerations to open again and bleed. He shuttered unconsciously at the thought of a hard landing and purposely buckled his knees and braced himself for a hard landing. He noticed that Professor Lupin had been watching him closely as they all held onto the mirror and he avoided eye contact.

He wanted to tell Professor Lupin about his uncle but he wasn't sure that he could. He didn't want anyone to know that he couldn't stand up to the man, and he didn't want him to think he was a coward. Nobody could understand the power Uncle Vernon had had over him for the past few weeks. There had been no way to escape and all attempts to fight back were always pointless and just led to more pain in the end. He couldn't use magic or else he would have gotten expelled. There had been no defense, but he still couldn't say anything. He was afraid that they would realize exactly what his uncle had been saying all summer.

The portkey took off and Harry instinctively closed his eyes. Keeping them open and looking at the swirling colors had always made him nauseous and that would only add to his problems. He wanted to grip the portkey tighter but his fingers wouldn't move. After what felt like many long moments, he felt his feet slam violently into the floor. He landed on his stomach and winced, his breath hitching in his throat.

He looked up and found himself in a dingy kitchen, one that was dark and hollow. Lupin held out a hand to help him to his feet and he took it, picking up Hedwig's empty cage and setting it properly on his floor as he did. He heard footsteps on a set of stairs behind him and turned around slowly to find himself face to face with his godfather.

"Sirius!" Harry said more brightly than he had all night. Instead of giving him a smile or a one-armed hug he raised his eyebrows in surprise and took Harry by the chin inspecting his face.

"You look like hell, kid." Sirius said, looking at him closely. He had probably noticed the giant rings around Harry's eyes and how pale he was. Harry backed away from Sirius and his arm fell to his side.

"Well thank you for the warm welcome." Harry said in a quiet but sarcastic voice. "You're wondering so I'll answer you before you ask. I got into a fight."

Sirius frowned slightly before giving a small smile and pulling Harry into a one armed hug. He winced into Sirius's shirt and held his breath until he let go and forced his stony face back on again, trying as hard as he could not to show the pain he was feeling from the simple hug, and not let the dark spots in front of his vision overcome him. He had to say he was overjoyed to see his godfather, but he felt uncomfortable being around him for some reason. He didn't know why. He decided to diver the kitchens attention away from himself and fix it on a different subject. Looking around the dingy kitchen he spoke quietly.

"So where exactly are we?" He asked.

"Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix." Sirius said simply, as Tonks left to bring Harry's things up to his room while everyone else went to sit at the table with a dozen mismatched chairs around it. He sat down next to Sirius and raised his eyebrows at him.

"It's a secret society created by Dumbledore to fight against Voldemort." Sirius explained. "This is where we have meetings and everything. This is also the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Ancient is definitely a word to describe it. It used to belong to my mum before she died and it's been uninhabited for ten years so we've been trying to clean it up."

Harry nodded, silently staring at the table.

"Don't you want to ask anymore questions?" Sirius asked, sounding curious.

Harry quickly looked at him. "Do you want me to?"

Sirius looked at him closely. "If you have them I'll answer them as much as I can. I would have bet you would come in here asking about Voldemort and what he was doing."

"I – I didn't think you wanted me to bother you with it." Harry said.

"You're not bothering us, we expected it." Sirius said, still looking at Harry closely. Sirius, Lupin, Kingsley, and Tonks (when she came back downstairs) started to explain everything from plans and weapons, to an extent from what they were allowed to tell him. Sirius seemed to want to tell him more but Lupin cut him off.

"The only permanent guests who are staying in the house are Sirius and I and of course yourself." Professor Lupin said. "Tonks, Kingsley and a few others sometimes spend the night, especially when meetings end late, but the Weasleys and Hermione are going to come and stay for the last two weeks before term starts at Hogwarts. We have a meeting tonight, and we ask you now please not to eavesdrop."

Usually Harry would have given a sarcastic remark or an innocent look, maybe looking embarrassed. But instead, he looked down at the table in understanding. He missed the concerned looks shared between Sirius and Professor Lupin, and Tonks staring avidly at him, a troubled look on her face.

"Why don't we show you where you're staying?" Sirius said getting up from the table.

Harry quickly got up, wincing slightly from the pain and hoping it had gone unnoticed as he followed Sirius. Unfortunately, it seemed that Lupin had seen him but hadn't said anything, unnoticed by Harry. They followed Sirius to the second landing which led him to a room with two twin four poster beds and a large wardrobe and desk. It was plain but Harry didn't really care. It was better than being at the Dursley's any day.

"Why don't you get cleaned up and then come down for dinner?" Sirius said placing a hand on his shoulder. Harry nodded and everyone exited all except for Sirius who closed the door and turned facing Harry. "Harry, are you alright?"

Harry blinked. "I'm fine, why?"

Sirius sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "You've been . . . different. Is there something you'd like to tell me? You can tell me anything, you know."

He bit his lip. He had a sudden urge to tell Sirius everything. He wanted Sirius to tell him that he didn't deserve it and that Vernon Dursley was just a horrible person who deserved as much pain as he had given Harry for fourteen years. He wanted Sirius to comfort him and tell him everything was going to be okay, but he found that he couldn't. He didn't want to say it and find out that Sirius thought he deserved all the punishment and abuse he had been given. He didn't want to see the disappointment on his face when he realized he wasn't like he thought Harry would be. That he was a coward.

"No." He said, staring at the floor. "Everything is fine, Sirius."

Sirius sighed again. "Are you sure?" He pressed. Harry nodded. "Alright, get cleaned up and we'll meet you in the kitchen."

Sirius left, closing the door behind him. Harry closed his eyes and sunk to the floor, his face in his hands. He wasn't sure how he was going to avoid everyone from noticing that he was off. They were already suspicious and he had been here hardly an hour. He was feeling like he was going to collapse any moment and his ribs were burning angrily. He bit his lip and pinched the bridge of his nose underneath his glasses.

Considering everything else, he wasn't sure if he could hide the dreams he had been having at night. They were always the same. All of them causing him to take up screaming, and all of them getting worse by the night, every night. He could hardly remember a time when he had gotten a full night's sleep.

He shuttered at the thought of his dream and tried to get it out of his head. He knew it wasn't real but that hadn't stopped him crying out in the middle of the night and causing his uncle to come in and hit him, yelling for him to stop whining. He wasn't sure exactly how he was going to cover everything up, but he was sure he could manage for the time being. His bruises would fade soon and anything broken was sure to heal if he used the proper bandages. The only thing that felt broken was a rib or two and his wrist. He was lucky that he had a high tolerance for pain, or else he was sure he would never be able to pull this off.

Taking a deep breath, he got up from the floor and winced slightly. The pain wouldn't last forever. He was just grateful that he was away from the Dursley's until next summer. He knew deep in his mind that he couldn't go back there again. He would have to find some way of avoiding it. No matter what Dumbledore said he had to do. If he went back there he would surely not come out. It was his own personal hell – one he wished he could never go back to again. But he didn't know who to turn to, thinking that nobody would care or he was just afraid to tell.

Heading out of his bedroom, he sighed. He would have to deal with the Dursleys when the time came. But for now, he was just glad to be away from them, and that he was in a place where Uncle Vernon couldn't find him. He had to wonder though, if Sirius and Professor Lupin minded if he stayed. He couldn't help but think that maybe he was intruding on their privacy and that they only did it because Dumbledore told them to. He didn't want to be a bother to them. Heading down the stairs, he came to a conclusion, he was going to stay out of their way and stay out of trouble. The Dursley's rejection hurt enough, but finding Sirius's was ten times as bad, and he wasn't sure if he could ever handle that.

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Authors Note: Umm….I guess I'm finished now, aren't I? For this chapter at least. I want to continue but I'm not going to bother if people don't give me feedback, because I write this because I have no life and enjoy doing it, but if you don't enjoy reading it, I wont take up valuable hard drive disk and disc space by posting and I don't know if you like it if you don't review so let me know if you want this story to continue: Yes or No?

Authors Note II: One more thing, this is AU, so I know the Weasleys are at Grimmauld Place when Harry comes and there is a meeting, but for the story to be better) and cause its AU) Harry has to be alone with Sirius and Remus and spend some time having the house be a little empty. I'm hoping to get a lot into the story, and to try and make it as original as it will go. Well enough rambling on my part. Tootles – and remember to review please.

Happy Holidays,

BlondxCrayon


	2. Constant Apologies and Regrets

Standing Beside the Fallen

Chapter 2 – Constant Apologies and Regrets

During dinner that night Harry was oddly silent. Sirius had tried to engage him in conversation several times, but he merely answered politely before turning back to his food that he hardly touched. It was odd, that Harry hadn't felt hungry when he had hardly eaten all summer. The Dursleys hadn't been exactly generous enough to provide him with a meal every once a while so he ended up having to sneak food from the refrigerator in small helpings so that nobody would notice.

He was sure he lost at least fifteen pounds since he left Hogwarts two and a half weeks ago, but he hadn't cared much. He remembered longing for food sometimes in the early hours of the morning while he lay awake during a nightmare. He had wished for anything to have a hot meal in front of him. Now however, the side of food wasn't as appealing as he thought it was.

Harry jumped when Sirius burst out into a fit of laughter, his echoes sounding like the bark of a dog. He seemed to be amused by Tonks, who was changing her nose to make it resemble a pig's and changing her hair to blond. Rather than laugh, Harry merely bit his lip and looked down at his plate again. She had looked remarkably like a skinny Dudley when she had done that and it had only reminded him of the Dursleys. There was no doubt to Harry that Dudley was going to grow up and be just as abusive as his father. After all, he had heard Dudley whining to his mother that Uncle Vernon wouldn't let him watch Harry get beaten. Those words had left him sick in the stomach for days. They treated it like some sort of spectator sport.

Professor Lupin had been watching him all night and Harry was starting to get really annoyed. He hated when people glared at him, especially when they gawked at his scar. But Professor Lupin seemed to be in deep thought as he stared at Harry and only broke eye contact when Harry sent an exasperated look at him. After that, Harry had declared that he didn't want any desert and headed upstairs. He had just reached the entrance hall when he accidentally knocked over a coat hanger and it caused a clanging sound on the floor. He nearly fell flat on his back from what happened next.

A woman appeared behind a curtain screaming bloody murder at the top of her lungs. She was, truly the ugliest woman Harry had seen in his life. She wore an ugly black cap perched on her head, and her yellow and waxy skin made her look decaying. She had yellow pointed teeth, was drooling at the mouth and had round piercing black eyes. Harry stumbled backwards into the wall, afraid that the crazy old woman was going to attack him when he realized that the woman was just a portrait. The most realistic and ugly portrait he had ever seen. And to top it all off, she was throwing rude and disgusting curses at him.

"_Filthy abominations! By-products of dirt and vileness! Get out of my house and leave this place! Filthy blood traitors, mutants and horrible disgusting _FREAKS _inhabit the house of my fathers and invite mudbloods and half breeds inside where they don't belong! Leave and never step foot here again you ugly piece of filth! Slime and pond scum be gone!"_

Harry was nearly panicking when Sirius sand Professor Lupin came up the stairs and headed towards the portrait. Sirius started to yell for the old hag to shut up while they both pulled the curtains as hard as they could, the woman still bellowing.

"_You_!" She spat, spotting Sirius. "_Traitor, shame of my flesh, you do not deserve to be in this house! You are no son of mine! Leave and never step foot back in his house again. It's called Noble for a reason, something which you lack and shall never gain, you wretched abomination. Oh how I could have a son as horrible as you I will never know, you ugly worthless. . . _"

Finally, Sirius and Professor Lupin seemed to get the moth eaten curtains closed and silence fell among the corridor besides the sounds of heavy breathing. Harry ran a hand gently through the tips of his hair, as not to reopen any cuts on his scalp, and stared at the curtain in disgust. His gaze then turned to Sirius who had a dark look on his face. Harry immediately perceived it to be directed at him.

"I'm so sorry, Sirius. I-I didn't know." He stuttered, tensing immediately and stepping further into the wall. "I'm sorry, I accidentally t-tripped and it just – "

"Harry!" Sirius said loudly over Harry's stuttering. "It's okay. Tonks does it all the time. This is my mother's portrait." He said, sounding bitter towards the end of the sentence. Harry's heart rate started to turn back to normal. "We can't seem to get her frame down and she starts cursing at the slightest sound in the entrance hall. I'm sorry, it's my fault, I should have warned you."

Harry shook his head. "No, no Sirius it was mine. I should have been quieter. I'm sorry." He said, trying to make himself as invisible as possible, but it didn't seem to be able to work. Tonks and Kingsley came into the hall and now the whole room was looking at him. He wished everyone would stop doing that and leave him alone.

"Harry, I'm telling you it's no problem." Sirius said slowly and carefully, seeming to try and choose his words carefully. "Tonks sets her off practically every time she sets foot in the hall. She's dead clumsy, even when she isn't walking."

Harry bit his lip as Tonks gave an indignant, "Hey!" Over by the doorway, but didn't seem to be fazed by it at all. He nodded slowly, avoiding eye contact with everyone and looked up towards the stairs.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Professor Lupin asked.

"I'm fine okay?" Harry burst out, looking angry. "Why do you all keep asking that? There is nothing wrong alright, so just stop it!"

He turned and headed up the stairs, doing so quietly despite his angry mood so he wouldn't set off Mrs. Black again. He headed into his room and closed the door with a snap behind him, sliding down into a sitting position on the floor, tears clouding his eyes. He hadn't meant to snap at them like that, he hadn't known what came over him. The tears slid down his cheeks as he realized that Sirius must hate him by now. He had graciously let him into his home and given him food and a room to stay in and how did he repay it? By setting off the mad portrait and snapping at him when he was trying to help. He felt appalled with himself.

The mad portrait had been right. Sirius really did invite a freak into the house, someone who didn't deserve to be here. Maybe it would be better for everyone else if he just left and got out of their hair. But then again, he was sure Dumbledore would hunt him down and tell him to go back, because he would be safe. And if he did leave, there would be nowhere for him to go, and he doubted he'd get far in his condition. Hell, he was sure not going back to the prison that was the Dursleys.

Wiping his eyes on the back of his sleeve, he slowly got up from the floor. Sparks of pain flared from his ribs and his various other injuries but he ignored it and walked over to the bed. Without even bothering to put in the effort and get undressed, he merely lay down on his bed. Never in his life had he felt so alone before. He had a group of people around him, ones that he liked and cared for, and yet he felt like there was a giant wall between them. He couldn't tell them what was tearing him up inside, and he couldn't confide in them over the nightmares and worries that plagued him night after night. He felt completely isolated from the rest of the world. He was alone, and he didn't know what to do about it.

* * *

He was once again trapped in another one of his horrible nightmares. He was running between the graves in the graveyard after seeing Cedric die for the millionth time. He could feel Voldemort following behind him, he felt so close that he could feel his hot breath on the crook of his neck, sending chills down his spine. Voldemort's high-pitched voice was in his ears repeating, "Bow to death, Harry," Over and over again. He tried to send a spell over his shoulder but his wand wasn't working. He was defenseless.

As he tried to go faster, he found himself flying towards the ground, tripping over something he couldn't see. He quickly turned over on his stomach expecting to see Voldemort's red eyes on him, but instead he found his uncle's purple face inches from his own. He gasped, and quickly tried to get away but his uncle had him pinned.

"You're nothing but a burden." His uncle hissed in his ear and took his head, forcing him to look to the left. "This is what happens to all of your friends because of you. You are the reason they are suffering, because they were forced to tolerate you all those years. They hate you and always will."

In the distance, he could see Voldemort pointing his wand at Ron and Hermione who were cowering in the corner. They looked over at Harry hatefully. "You did this to us!" They chanted together, each looking angrier than ever before. "You're the reason he's going to kill us! We hate you, you're nothing but a freak!"

And then Voldemort shot the killing curse, blinding him momentarily in a flash of green light. When he blinked and looked up, he saw that both had fallen to the floor, dead. Harry screamed and writhed in his uncle's grasp but it only caused his uncle to punch and kick to restrain him. Next in line on Voldemort's path was Sirius. He looked over at Harry, shaking his head.

"You're nothing like your father, Harry." He said in a low, dangerous voice. "If he were alive right now he would disown you. You're the reason they are dead and the reason I soon will be. I'd rather die than have to look at you right now."

And then Sirius dropped to the floor dead. Harry was screaming and fighting as hard as he could, trying to get to Voldemort who continued to kill the rest of his friends, all of whom seemed to have their own personal insults to throw at him. He couldn't take this anymore. No, this couldn't be happening!

Harry shot up in bed, gasping loudly and holding back a scream of terror. He immediately flinched, feeling his ribs screaming in pain and wrapped his arm around the bruises, biting his lip hard. His heart was going a mile per minute in his chest, ready to burst through his rib cage from how hard it was pounding. He was taking long shallow breaths, and sweat falling down his forehead. His energy seemed drained, a mixture from the pain in his injuries to the energy it took to keep back screaming. He kicked off his covers and stood up, swaying on his feet for a moment before grabbing the bed post and steadying himself. Once he managed to catch his breath, he allowed himself to think about the dream he had just had.

In his heart, he knew exactly that Sirius and Ron and Hermione and all of his friends didn't really feel the way they did in his dream. But in his mind, where the dream still sat vividly, he couldn't help but wonder if it was actually true? Did Sirius really hate him? Did Ron and Hermione despise him and wish they never met him? His uncle had always told him that he was a burden to everybody he knew. Maybe that was really true. Maybe he was too blind to listen to him before.

Shaking his head, he tried to rid himself of that thought. Those were cowardly thoughts, thoughts for people who were weak and defenseless and after facing Voldemort, he couldn't be either. He knew that his friends loved him and would stand by him after everything that happened. Wouldn't they?

Deciding that it was in his best interest to probably get away from these thoughts he put on his shoes and headed out of his bedroom and downstairs. He tried to stay as quiet as possible, hoping that he wouldn't wake anybody in the house up, and they would never knew he left his room to go and get a cup of hot chocolate in the kitchen. Back with the Dursley's, he would never dare to do this in the middle of the night, but he doubted Sirius would come downstairs and start to beat him unconscious. The thought of that actually happening made him shudder, and he was a little shocked to find himself hesitating to go inside when he reached the kitchen door.

In the end, he decided he was being stupid and pushed the door open, only to realize that he wasn't alone. It seemed he wasn't the only one to come downstairs with the intentions of a late night drink. Professor Lupin was at the table, a steaming cup in his hands as he sat reading a piece of parchment with a neat set of handwriting on it. Lupin looked up when he saw Harry entered and gave a small smile.

"Up a little late aren't you?" He said quietly as he tried to discreetly take the parchment and fold it, placing it in his front pocket of his pajama top.

"I came down for some hot chocolate." Harry said softly. "I can just go back to bed if I'm bothering you – "

"No Harry, of course not," Lupin said smiling. "Why don't you come and sit down?"

As Harry slowly entered the kitchen from the threshold, Lupin got up from his seat and started over to the stove, ready to boil some more water. Harry immediately frowned.

"Professor, you don't need to do that. I can make it myself." Harry said.

"Sit down, Harry." He said. "I'm making myself a fresh cup anyways." There were a few moments of silence as Harry resolutely sat down at the table, quietly watching Remus as he got the hot chocolate bags from the cupboard and started to stir in the powder and milk.

"Marshmallows?" He asked, holding up a small bag as he placed several in his own cup. Harry gave a small smile and nodded.

When Professor Lupin gave Harry his cup, he gave a small smile in thanks before turning his attention completely on the cup, not daring to look Professor Lupin in the eye. It wasn't long before the silence between the two was broken.

"They look like they hurt," Professor Lupin said. Harry quickly looked up.

"What?" He asked, his tongue thick in his mouth.

"Those bruises on your face," Lupin said, gesturing to his bruised cheek and right temple.

Harry gave a small smile of relief. "No they don't, it doesn't hurt at all, really."

"You say you got into a fight?" Lupin asked.

_This man can really be annoying sometimes, _Harry thought bitterly, but nodded anyways, not allowing his emotions to escape onto his face as he continued to stare intently at his mug.

"Who did you fight?" He asked.

"My cousin," Harry answered automatically.

He had been covering up Vernon's abuse for years, and excuses seemed natural when he talked. Ever since he was a small child he had learned what the right cover stories were so that nobody got suspicious. Some did of course, mainly a teacher or two, but then he would purposely pick a fight in the school yard in front of that teacher and loose on purpose, just to make them loose their suspicion. It always hurt and humiliated him, but not as much as if the truth had been revealed. So far, nobody had completely figured it out, and he hoped it stayed that way.

"It looks like you came off worse." Lupin said. This time Harry did look up.

"Well, you try taking on a four hundred pound piece of lard three times your size in a fight. Dudley's so big that if he sits on you your skull shatters from the pressure. Personally, I think under the circumstances I did rather well."

Lupin chuckled, and Harry couldn't help but let a small smile break on his face. Personally, he thought he was getting too good at these lies.

"So what has got you coming down here at two thirty in the morning?" Professor Lupin asked, sipping his hot chocolate.

"I couldn't sleep." Harry said, not wanting to admit to his ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher that he had been having violent nightmares. Harry suddenly bit his lip and looked up. "Why were you down here? If, if you don't mind my asking?"

Lupin smiled. "You and I seem to be in the same boat don't we? Both of us are aspiring insomniacs. However I had some work to be finished after the meeting and decided that I would finish it down here. Sirius and Tonks of course, are not like that. Never in a million years can you wake them up in the morning, let alone them ever being insomniacs or missing sleep over work either. I remember once dumping a bucket of water on him to wake him up and he continued to sleep. Woke up thinking he wet himself."

Harry couldn't help but snort in laughter, imagining his godfather sleeping through that. He laughed until he felt a shooting pain in his ribs and gave a gasp of breath, his eyes shut tight and biting his lip furiously.

"Harry?" Professor Lupin asked. He quickly got up from the table and headed around it but Harry quickly opened his eyes and stood up, taking a step back.

"I'm okay." He said quickly.

"No, you looked like you were hurt." Lupin said, giving Harry a searching look. "It looked like your chest was hurting."

Harry shook his head. "No I'm fine." He said. "I just. . . "He was suddenly drawing a blank on a list of excuses. "A bruise I got when I was fighting my cousin." He finally managed.

"If it's that serious that it hurts when you laugh, I should probably take a look at it-"

"No." Harry cut in quickly . . . perhaps a little too quickly. Lupin raised an eyebrow and Harry swallowed thickly. "It's fine, just a little irritated."

Lupin studied Harry for a few moments before he sighed and put his hand on his shoulder and steered him to a seat. Harry suppressed a flinch and the urge to recoil away from the man's touch and allowed himself to be sat down, but tried to look into Lupin's eyes and seem innocent.

"Harry if there's anything you want to tell me, I'll listen." He said. "_Is _there anything? Anything at all?"

_He knows_, Harry thought desperately, his breathing starting to come uneven as he stared at Remus in almost a panic. Harry quickly shook his head but Lupin took his forearm. Harry gasped and wrenched it away, falling off the chair and landing painfully onto his back.

"Harry!" Lupin said quickly. Harry didn't pay much attention as he quickly backed away from the man, the pain flaring in his back causing him to forget where he was for a moment, and his eyes pictured a large hulking figure stalking into his bedroom, a malicious grin on his face. He backed away until he reached the wall, where he held his hands over his head in a protective motion.

"Harry?" Lupin said carefully.

But Harry didn't seem to want to listen. He was still in a state of continuous panic and his breathing was uneven, his back screaming from pressing himself on the wall so hard, but he couldn't seem to stop. His knees were drawn to his chest in a protected motion and his eyes were closed, trying to block out the images of his uncle's beating, but it wasn't helping at all. There were sounds around him, but they felt oddly distilled and nothing seemed to make sense.

"Harry! Open your eyes, its Sirius! Your okay, it's just you me and Remus. Nobody else, breathe." The voice seemed distant almost like an echo. However, the voice was also calm and soothing, and was such an opposite tone from what had been ringing in his ears that he couldn't help but feel his muscles loosen a little and his erratic breathing starting to slow.

"Good job. Now listen to my voice okay?" They said. Harry gave a quick jab of a nod. "Good. Take a deep breath, and hold it for five seconds and let it out." Harry complied, holding his breath and letting the voice count for him. "Good, now let it out. Now, what I want you to do, is open your eyes, okay?"

Harry shook his head. He didn't want to face the reality of openings his eyes and finding his uncle towering over him in a fit of rage.

"It's okay, Harry. I promise you that you are perfectly safe." The voice said. "It's just you Remus and me. Nobody else. We're in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, and it's just us. Can you open your eyes for me?"

Grimmauld Place. He remembered that name. Very hesitantly, he opened his eyes, ready to see a pair of dark eyes filled with hatred, puce fists raised and ready to attack. But when he blinked and looked around, he found he was sitting balled in the corner of the basement kitchen in Grimmauld Place, with Sirius crouched in front of him looking pale and worried and Professor Lupin hovering behind him, fingering his wand in his right hand and staring at Harry in a mixture of shock and worry.

"Harry, look at me." Sirius said quietly. Almost hesitantly, he looked into Sirius's eyes. "You're alright, I promise you, nobody is going to hurt you here."

Harry suddenly realized what was going on, and his eyes widened when he realized what he did. He ran his fingers gently through his hair as he felt his stomach drop.

"Oh, Merlin," He said quietly. He wanted to get up and run from the kitchen and get away from the worried faces that were staring at him, but he didn't think he had the energy or the opportunity to do so, since Sirius was hovering in front of him. Instead, he found himself with an overwhelming desire to be comforted and dived forward, hugging Sirius tightly around the neck and burying his face into the crook of his neck. To his relief, Sirius returned the hug, gently rubbing circles on his back. Harry was so grateful for the return of affection that he didn't even notice that Sirius was rubbing over the bruises on his back.

Harry wasn't sure how long they had held the embrace, but personally, he felt like he didn't care. He was sure that he heard Sirius and Professor Lupin talking, but he wasn't paying attention. He was so comfortable where he and Sirius sat that he hadn't realized he was falling asleep until he felt Sirius place his hand on his back and under his legs and lift him from the ground. He jumped a little bit, but he felt too tired to be panicked. The person holding him didn't have a death grip like his uncle and he felt safe. Harry drifted off to sleep and for the first time that summer, he slept peacefully with no dreams for the rest of the night. All problems could wait until later, but for right now, he was going to enjoy the gentle bliss of the warmth and comfort that surrounded him. Something, that even though it was foreign, felt just natural.

* * *

Authors Note: Guess I'm continuing aren't I? Anyways, how many thought Harry was going to tell them everything here? The answer to when he will . . . well, in time the truth shall reveal itself, but when exactly Harry will tell, only my deluded mind and my outline can tell, which is in the back of my math notebook. What, you actually thought I do math in math class? _Laughs_ Review please and tell me what you think! Thanks for the feedback last chapter too by the way, I never expected so many people to like this story!

Anyways, Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy Kwanzaa, Happy Boxing Day, Happy New Year and any holiday I forgot. Updates will come each week. If it changes, check my profile, I update it regularly.

BlondxCrayon


	3. Worries of the Grim Like Dog

Standing Beside the Fallen

Chapter Three - Worries of the Grim Like Dog

Gazing out through the rain streaked window, Sirius Black gave a gigantic sigh and leaned back heavily in his chair. It was just past seven in the morning, and even though he had gotten a few hours of sleep last night before he had been awoken, Sirius was both physically and mentally exhausted. The strain of worry had tempted him to pass out in the chair, listening as the rain pounding on the window and roof lulled him to sleep, but he fought it off with a vengeance. No way would he be caught dead sleeping with everything going on. Not while he was waiting . . .

It had been a little more than three hours ago that the man had been awoken from a deep sleep. At first, he didn't know what had woken him, feeling put out from the wonderful dream he had been having; one where he had been six and was playing Quidditch with the gang of Mauraders on the back of several threshals. When he blinked and looked through the darkness to find a silver leopard patronus at his side, Sirius was immediately worried. He would recognize Remus's patronus anywhere, and he also recognized why it was being sent. Something was wrong in another part of the house, and the patronus had been sent to retrieve him.

He had jumped up from his bed, shivering slightly as the cold hit him from being removed from his comfortable quilt and sheets. He quickly grabbed a bathrobe off the hook on his door and swung it open, allowing for the patronus to run past him and down the corridor. Sirius had been in the Order the first time around, during the first war, and as long as he remembered, using Patronus's had been a way for members of the Order of the Phoenix to communicate with each other when needed. Some patronuses, usually strong ones, where able to bare messages and recite them. Others, like the one currently guiding him to what he expected to be the kitchen as he headed down a set of stairs, were used just to guide people to their owners in case of an emergency.

Sirius did not want to think of what kind of emergency there was that he had to be woken at half past three in the morning. It was very rare that he had been woken in such a fashion, and hoped that whatever was wrong, it was nothing too serious. Upon reaching the kitchen however, Sirius had found the situation he was expecting to be completely opposite. The kitchen was empty save two lone people hidden in the corner of the room. Remus was crouched with his wand in hand, looking over at Sirius in the doorway with a look of hopeless fear on his face. It scared Sirius to see such a prominent and usually together man with a look like that. But when he looked over Remus's shoulder and saw Harry huddled in the corner, he realized why Remus was looking the way he was.

He remembered hurrying forward at seeing his godson in such obvious distress. The boy had looked absolutely frightened, shivering like mad, his fists balled and his eyes clenched shut as though expecting to be struck. The first thing he noticed was how uneven and painful Harry's breathing sounded. He did not need Remus to tell him that Harry was having a panic attack, because it was obvious. But he had allowed Remus to quickly explain what had gotten the boy to be in such a state, and Sirius was shocked. All Remus had done was touch his shoulder!

He didn't exactly remember what he did to calm Harry down. All he had been thinking at the time was a mixture of two things. One, it was absolutely necessary for Harry to calm down or else he would end up hurting himself more than he was. The second thing he was thinking about was Harry had lied to him. He had not been fine from the moment he had fallen through portkey in the kitchen. All the signs that Sirius could see pointed to a case of abuse, and he was stuck with a mixture of blind fury and being absolutely appalled. He had suspected it all day, but now his suspicions were confirmed. Harry had been abused by someone, and Sirius would bet his own life that it was that fat son of a bitch Harry called his uncle.

A fight indeed. The moment Harry had come up with the excuse he knew it wasn't the first time he used such a cover up story. He wondered exactly as he saw Harry's eyes finally open in fear, how long he had been abused for? Was this summer the first time, or had it been going on for years? And more importantly, how far exactly had the abuse gone?

When Harry had jumped for a hug into his arms, Sirius remembered coming back to himself, realizing the severity of the situation as though a burden of weights had been placed on his shoulder. Harry had been his responsibility, and so far he had done a horrible job. The boy he was supposed to be looking after was lying broken in his arms, more afraid than Sirius had ever seen him. He hadn't even seen him look this frightened after he had been brought back from Voldemort's clutch, and that was after seeing his classmate die. He had known that Harry had gone through a hard time and was still going through it, and yet Sirius hadn't been there. What kind of a godfather was he?

He wanted to grasp his hold on the boy and never let go, to comfort him and tell him things were going to be okay. He wanted to tell him that he would never allow any of this to happen ever again but he found that his mouth was glued shut and the most he could do was to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes. Several long minutes had passed, but he had found that he didn't care. Harry was gradually falling asleep in his arms, and he felt almost glad. It was obvious that the brutal man had inflicted some serious injuries on his godson and Harry was really hurt, despite how much the boy tried to hide it and say otherwise. Sirius knew that he needed to get a healer into Grimmauld Place immediately, and it would work better if Harry was unconscious when it was done.

A hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality and he looked up to find Remus, still crouched in the floor, and a deep look of concern and fear in his lined face. Sirius's own surpassed the look with intensity as his gaze shifted down to the half conscious boy in his arms and Sirius sighed and shook his head.

"I allowed for that monster to touch him, Remus, and I allowed for this to happen." He said in a rough voice. "I saw that there was something wrong today and I suspected abuse, but I didn't say anything. I hoped that Harry would come to me himself, but that was a mistake. I drove him to this."

He wanted to get up and start to punch and kick everything in his path, to blow holes with his wand through the walls and to scream in fury until his lungs tore and he couldn't anymore. But the presence of Harry in his arms stopped all that. The anger building inside him was just molding itself into pain and he felt like he could physically feel the emotion bleeding through his ribcage and causing pain shooting through his body from his chest.

"You did nothing of the sort, Sirius." Remus said almost harshly. "This is as much of your fault as it is anybody's here for not noticing. Harry was purposely trying to hide it remember? If you are thinking what I am, then it is Vernon Dursley's fault this is all happenings and not your own. But for right now, I don't think it's the right time to be laying blame. Punishments and explanations came come later, but for right now, I think it's a good idea if we get a healer to check up on Harry as quick as possible. If I know Harry as well as I do, he's hiding more pain and injuries than either of us can even imagine."

Sirius had to wholeheartedly agree with that last statement. Even though he had only been with Harry on several occasions the past two years, he knew that Harry was very tough and knew how to take pain. In the past he would have been proud of the way Harry had done this, but now he couldn't help but wish Harry hadn't the ability. He wished with everything he had that Harry had just wrote him a simple letter in the beginning of the summer to say what was going on, and if that was impossible, the moment he had stepped foot inside the house earlier that afternoon.

Sirius had stayed while Remus had called Dumbledore to send for a healer. Tonks and Kingsley, who had spent the night after the long meeting, had been woken and filled in on what was going on. When Sirius had gotten Harry settled in the bed, he noticed that he had gained a fever, and it was growing steadily warmer as the minutes dragged by. To Sirius, it felt like hours before he and Dumbledore returned. But with them, was no healer that Sirius had expected. He had thought Madam Pomfrey would come in, or some trusted healer from St. Mungo's who was an ally with Dumbledore. But no, just like always, it had to be -

"Snape," Sirius hissed and jumped up from his chair when he saw the man slink into the room. "What the hell is he doing here?" He gave Remus a glare as though saying it was his fault, but Remus just sighed and allowed Dumbledore to answer for him.

"Severus had kindly agreed to come and help with the situation, considering that there was nobody else available to help." He said as he and Snape entered the room. "Severus has had enough medical training, more than I have for that matter, and is more than qualified for the job. And considering he is a potion's master, he does have access to the proper tools."

He knew immediately that he did not want his and one of Harry's most hated enemies to be responsible for Harry's care. He did not trust the man as far as he could throw him. For anything, he would inflict more pain than he relieved and he had been entirely vocal with his ideas, but it seemed nobody wanted to listen to him. It wasn't until Snape actually removed Harry's shirt that they all saw poorly wrapped bandages tied around his ribs. Snape unwrapped them with a care Sirius didn't know he had, and when he did the room had gone deathly quiet, and he held no more objections as to who cared for his godson.

Sirius would never though possible that Harry could act as normally as he could when he had been in such obvious pain. His chest and arms looked worse than horrible, it looked more to be a disaster. Sirius couldn't describe exactly what it looked like, but just . . . an array of angry black and blue with the sight of congealed blood flowing from corner to corner. And what was worse, Harry was so skinny that Sirius could count each and every single rib. It had been so horrible to look at that it had left even Snape speechless. Dumbledore had been the one to suggest they leave and allow Severus to work in peace after a full minute of silence, but Sirius refused. It wasn't until he had been bodily removed that he had resigned, storming into the study next to Harry's bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

And that was where he had remained until now, sitting and staring out of the window watching as light dawned on a new day, and waiting for the news to come. He had had three hours to think of the whole situation, and three hours to think of what was going to happen to Harry. He knew that Harry had a longer road ahead of him in recovery than it took just for him to be physically better. The mental trauma had obviously left the boy in a state, and Sirius was making it his duty to help Harry out of it. Up until now he had been a lousy godfather, and as sure as hell was he going to let that continue to happen. Harry needed somebody he could trust, and Sirius wanted, no needed to be that person.

Remus had come knocking on the study door twice already. The only reason Sirius answered was to ask if there was any news on Harry, but each time there was none. When he heard that he had merely slammed the door behind him and refused to talk unless it was about an update on the boy's health. Snape had been inside the room with the boy and seemed to let no news escape him on his progress. For the fourth time, Sirius jumped up from his seat and started to pace. It was going to be a long day.

Ten minutes later, he heard another knocking at the door.

"Sirius! Severus finished and wants to give us an update!" Remus called through the door. Faster than what seemed humanly possible, Sirius reached the door in a flash and bolted past the man, down the hall and into the room where Severus, Tonks, Kingsley, and Dumbledore was quietly conversing at the foot of Harry's bed. Remus entered at a quick pace behind Sirius and seemed just as anxious.

Sirius's eyes traveled over to Harry who was lying still on the bed. The bruising on his face did not seem as prominent as it was before, which Sirius guessed because Severus had applied some healing salve, and he did not look as pale as before. His shirt was still off and the blankets pulled up to halfway up his chest, revealing some thick bandage on his ribcage, and covered most of the sight. Harry's arms, which had been littered with severe bruising of fingerprints, burns and welts, looked better than before, though still tender.

Severus cleared his throat in an impatient manor and Sirius immediately came from his trail of thought and concentrated on the potions master. As he and Remus sat down, Sirius noticed something about the man that seemed different. There was a look on his face that he remembered seeing only given when he was in the middle of a complicated potion. And that had been only on several occasions. Sirius couldn't pinpoint what kind of emotions that the look seemed, but the man's scowl wasn't nearly as heavy, and his lips were thinner than they usually were.

"After several hours of working on the boy, I managed to heal him the best I could without certain magic interfering with each other causing his body to have a reaction on such exposure." Severus stated. "He had a few fractures and some severe bruising, with some sprains and a concussion, but he's in a good state for what he just came from." The man paused and glanced over to the still too pale boy lying unconscious in the bed.

"I gave him a heavy sleeping draught that should keep him asleep until late this afternoon, possibly until tonight. The amount of magic I used to heal his body will probably keep him feeling overwhelmingly tired for the next few days, so don't be alarmed if he finds himself to be sleeping most of the time. I managed to get his fever down for a little while before it started to rise again, and I suggest giving him another fever reducing potion around noon today to help try and keep it down.

"His ribs were probably the biggest problem I was facing. He had two fractured and two bruised, and I was afraid he had done some damage to his organs and was thankful for his sake to find that wasn't so. The bruising will go away, though slowly, and his ribs will be tender so I suggest he doesn't move much for a couple of days. Other than that there was his concussion, which has been dealt with to the best of my ability, and it should be fine in a few days. However he will be a little slower than usual." A small sneer crept on his mouth, but it disappeared quicker than usual. "I left several potions on the nightstand just in case there is a complication."

"Thank you for all of your help, Severus." Remus said. "Both Sirius and I appreciate it." He added, giving Sirius a sideways look as though forcing him to agree. Biting his tongue, Sirius gave a curt nod and looked at the wall hard. Snape's lip curled in satisfaction.

"I'll be back every couple of hours until tomorrow night to check on his status. If there is a complication whilst I am absent, you know where to find me." Severus said, packing up the duffel bag he had brought with him. With a nod to the headmaster he left the room, closing the door behind him. Sirius immediately got up from his chair and headed across the room, sitting in the one that had been position beside the bed so that he could be closer to his godson. He didn't say a word to anyone else as he sat, gazing down on his godson.

"What's going to happen to Harry professor?" Remus said and Sirius's ears perked up even though he continued to stare at the bed. "Surely he isn't going back to his relatives house?"

Sirius listened as Dumbledore sighed. "No, Harry will not be returning to the Dursley residence. For the rest of the summer, it's best if he stays here as planned, and as for next summer, well we can deal with it as time passes."

"Why can't he just stay here?" Sirius hissed glaring at the headmaster.

"Sirius, you know as well as I that even with so many safety matters in this house, it still is hardly safe enough for him. But, it may be our only option, so I will keep the thought open for suggestion."

Anger pulsed through Sirius like a bullet, and he quickly jumped through his feet. "It shouldn't have to be a consideration! I'm his godfather and he should be here with me!"

"Sirius, calm down!" Kingsley said, putting a hand on his shoulder, but Sirius shrugged it off and stepped away from him.

"Sirius, you know as well as I that you cannot be placed as a legal guardian. If the Ministry finds out that Harry is no longer at his relatives home, they will question about his whereabouts and that's the last thing any of us, especially Harry, needs right now. It is also why we cannot give up the Dursley's to the authorities, muggle or magical."

"What!" Sirius and Remus both chorused.

"How can you say that!" Sirius yelled. "That bastard needs to be punished for what he did to Harry! Because of him, Harry's afraid of anybody who touches him! You didn't see how scared he was down in the kitchen last night! Vernon Dursley did that to him, and he needs to get what he deserves!"

"In time, Sirius he will." Dumbledore said. "I'm sorry, but for right now it is not as important as Harry himself. Revenge will become better with time. That, is something I can promise you." Dumbledore had a note of finality in his voice, something that not even Sirius could argue with. Instead, he turned around and kicked the wall, a resounding thud going around the room as Sirius growled from anger and pain and stalked back over to the chair beside Harry's bed.

Dumbledore sighed, watching the man. His blue eyes were grave, and for anybody who knew him a long time would say that the man looked as if he had aged ten years overnight. Nevertheless, he still held the usual demeanor of a man in charge of the situation, calmly and collectively, just as he always did. "Tonks, Kingsley." He said quietly turning to the two who were standing beside the window. "I was hoping if you two would be able to stay here for a few days to help out with things."

Tonks and Kingsley nodded.

"Of course, Professor." Tonks said. She held a no nonsense tone in her voice, something that was only heard in the right sort of circumstances.

"Good." Dumbledore said. "Remus, make sure he doesnt do anything stupid," Dumbledore added in an undertone to the man, who nodded. Everyone in the room knew that Sirius had a hot temper, and when that flared, it was hard for him to control his actions. "Do not let him leave the house under any circumstances."

"Now," Dumbledore said. "I'll be back with Severus tonight to check on Harry. Just like Severus, you know where to find me if I am needed. Good day, and good luck." He said quietly before turning and quietly headed out of the room. The silence hung for a few moments before it was broken by Sirius.

"Sometimes I want to wring that man's neck." Sirius said. "And today is no different."

* * *

Harry woke to the sounds of soft voices buzzing around him. At first it seemed like a distant buzz, slowly entering the black abyss he had found himself in and pulling him out. As the seconds went by, the buzz started to grow louder, and Harry couldn't help but feel his muddle mind starting to clear as the jumbled voices started to make sense to him. He wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, and just enter the blackness and not have to worry about anything. He was so tired, and it seemed just so easy. But his thoughts were becoming more lucid, and he suddenly asked the once question that brought him to full consciousness: What happened?

He tried to think back, and his mind managed to produce the scene in the kitchen. His heart started to sink when he realized he had fallen apart in front of Sirius and Remus like that. Now what were they going to think of him? After that he found that his mind was becoming blank. Surely he still wasn't in the kitchen, it felt like he was lying in a soft bed.

Suddenly, as though it had hit him in the head, Harry remembered about his uncle's abuse, which was the reason for him falling apart in the kitchen in the first place. He remembered Professor Lupin and two other people - Tonks and Kingsley that was their names - coming to get him and bringing him Grimmauld Place, the headquarters for an Order of some sort. He couldn't remember the name right now, but it seemed rather obvious. He passed it off as unimportant and he grew nervous. Did Sirius and Professor Lupin know that he had been abused?

He groaned softly as he shifted his head, and found that to be a huge mistake. It felt too heavy for his liking and it was pounding furiously from the back all the way to behind his eyes. Opening his eyes, blinked hard to try and rid himself of the lingering sleep. Squinting around, he was able to make out the blurry and dark room just enough to realize he was in his bedroom at Grimmauld Place. Squinting hard, Harry could just make out a figure standing over by the door and talking softly to someone in the doorframe.

Immediately Harry's still confused mind panicked, thinking the worst of the person over by the door. He quickly tried to sit up, despite the pain from his head and the dull pain from his chest but found he was a little more unsteady than he thought and instead of jumping to his feet, he found himself rolling right off the side of the bed and landing with a crash onto the floor. He winced from the landing and bit his lip hard.

"Harry!" Someone said quickly and he heard footsteps approach. His eyes quickly snapped open, and even though his vision was still blurry, he was able to make out Sirius plainly crouched above him, looking worried.

"I'm fine." Harry said quickly, his voice rasping and still thick with sleep. "I just . . . got a little disoriented."

Sirius sighed and gently lifted Harry from the floor and placed him back onto the bed as gently as he could. Harry blushed a deep crimson from having to be picked up from the floor. Sirius seemed to notice this and allowed a small sad smile as he handed the boy his glasses.

"Don't be embarrassed Harry, I'm surprised you even had the energy to fall out of bed." Sirius said as he pulled the blankets over Harry's chest again.

By now, Harry knew exactly what was going on. He wasn't that stupid, after all. He realized that he was lying with absolutely no energy in a bed while Sirius hovered over him like a mother hen. It was also a dead giveaway due to the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt and the bandages around his chest were constricting his movement quite a bit.

To say that he was ashamed would be a hell of an understatement at the moment. He felt so embarrassed that he couldn't even look Sirius in the eye. Instead he closed his eyes and tried to give Sirius the notion that he didn't want to talk. He knew that Sirius and even possibly Professor Lupin would hound him on it eventually, but this was the last thing in the world he wanted to discuss. If he had to become mute to do it, he would. He was just ashamed enough to do that too.

"Harry." Sirius said quietly, and he knew the inevitable was about to come. Why now? Why not when he was thirty-five or so? "You know we need to talk about this."

Harry didnt answer, but instead he willed himself to roll over onto his side and face the wall. He brought his knees up to his chest and suppressed a wince of pain. He heard Sirius sigh behind him and he knew he was being rude, but he had already brought enough to trouble to the man. He didn't think he needed to bring anymore. He was such a stupid moron for letting them find out that he didn't care that his position was sending pain coursing through his body. He welcomed it.

"We don't have to talk now." Sirius said, and Harry blinked, glancing behind him. "But sooner or later we will have to talk. Why don't you just get some rest for now, eh?"

Harry's only response was silence and after a few seconds he heard Sirius get up and move to the other side of the room. He wished that Sirius would just leave and let him be alone for a while but he doubted that was going to happen. As much as he was grateful that Sirius wasn't accusing him of anything like he thought, he felt the need to just separate himself. He didn't want Sirius to carry the burden of Harry's pain, or make Sirius have to deal with the trouble he brought wherever he went. No, he couldn't cause Sirius that pain. He, least of all, didn't deserve that.

* * *

Authors Note: Not really liking this chapter much. Oh well. Okay, technically Harry still hasn't told anyone, even if they've basically figured it out. Anyways, reviews are much appreciated. I need them for motivation. Just as fanfiction can be a drug, reviews are too. Not in a bad way though.

I'm going to have a poll! Yay! I love Tonks, and she will be a part of this story, and I want to know, who do you think she should be paired up with? Her story won't be major but – hint, hint – she will help a lot with Harry and be close to him and she needs a boyfriend! Who do you think it should be – Remus, Bill, Charlie, Kingsley? You tell me, majority wins. Just a fun little thing I guess. Pairings won't be major in this story (sorry if I hear groans) but they will still be there . . . somewhere in there, even if they seem small.

So, Happy New Year to you all, unless you know, your Chinese which I will then say Happy January 1st. Kudos and review!

BlondxCrayon


	4. Denial Only Goes So Far

Standing Beside The Fallen

Chapter Four - Denial Only Goes so Far

Severus Snape stalked down the empty halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the usual scowl implanted on his face. His footsteps echoed loudly off the walls, and the volume of his breathing seemed to have turned up a few notches. All in all, as Severus swept down the stone stairs that led to his dungeons, he couldn't help but wonder why he had been having such a bad day. It wasn't hard to find the answer. His labor and exhaustion was all due to one person - Potter.

He had been having a rather enjoyable summer to begin with. The thought of not having to see another snot nosed child in his presence for another two months was welcoming. The first two weeks had been pleasant for him. He had returned to his home at Spinners End, and spent most of his time in the hidden basement behind the bookshelves of his living room. Down there was where he had set up his own personal potions lab. Each day had fallen into a pleasant routine for him, and he had enjoyed his quant tranquility he was having with himself. The only company he had was his house elf Puck, who did nothing but enjoy cooking and cleaning all day and therefore left Severus to his own bidding. All and all, it was a good summer.

That was until yesterday when he had been woken up to a presence coming through his fireplace. Severus was always prepared for an unknown emergency, or in this case intrusion as he so called it, and had dressed in less than thirty seconds before entering the living room where his fireplace was. Albus Dumbledore was standing beside the fireplace, watching the embers burn in the grate, a strange grave look in his eyes. He seemed to have brought company with him, a Remus Lupin to be more precise. It was easy to see that Severus hated Lupin with a vengeance, but compared to Sirius Black, the man was entirely tolerable. When he entered, both turned from their musings to look at him and Dumbledore gave him a soft smile.

"Severus, how are you?" Dumbledore asked.

"At four thirty in the morning headmaster, for some reason I find myself rather exhausted." Snape sneered in his usual sarcastic retort. "What may I help you with, sir?"

Severus hated wasting his potions on someone like Potter, but he owed it to the headmaster to do it. After all, he had plenty of time in the summer to replenish the stocks, and make twice of what he had had now. Even still, he hated seeing his creativity go to such a cause. He packed up the potion's he deemed necessary in a duffle bag. It ranged from a healing salve down to dreamless sleep and blood replenishing potions. Dumbledore seemed to only summarize that Potter was in bad shape, leaving out all details but the injury itself. He wondered momentarily what Potter had gotten himself into, but remembered that he wasn't supposed to care, and brandished the thought from his head.

He followed the Headmaster and Lupin through the fireplace and entered in Grimmauld Place, falling into the battered and disgusting room, and his nose wrinkled from the dust. He had an urge to sneeze, but held his breath and deepened his scowl as they headed upstairs. Of course, when he entered the room, the first thing that happened was Black jumped down his throat. Severus had an intense urge to break out his wand and curse the man to oblivion and go home, leaving his sniveling godson to fend for himself. But then he eyed the headmaster who was giving him a look of warning and managed to do nothing but create his infamous sneer on his face.

When he saw the condition Potter was in for himself, he couldn't help but be taken aback a little. The injuries were very extensive and he remembered Albus saying that Potter had been trying to hide it all day and nearly succeeded. He wondered how the golden boy managed to keep an impassive face with these kinds of injuries. He decided for once he would keep quiet with the snide remakes. Potter was stupid, reckless, idiotic, dense, moronic, selfish, spoiled and foolhardy but he was still only fifteen years old and he did look like he was in pain. He decided that for at least until tomorrow he would hold his tongue . . . as much as humanly possible, that is.

He visited back at the house every three hours to make sure Potter wasn't dying or dead. Of course, it would have been easier to stay just to watch over him, yet Severus Snape was a very stubborn man and held his pride high. Never would he be caught dead willingly in the same home as Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and his mouth hated student, Harry Potter. It just wasn't done. So Severus made the trip, each time bringing new items with him to help aid the boy.

That had been yesterday. Since then he had been going back at an interval of three hours to check on the boy. He had been told he had woken up once but had been weak and disoriented, which was normal with the course of potions he had been taking. The boy's fever had gone down but still remained by morning and he had told Black and Lupin he would come back and check on him later that night at six o' clock.

He stalked into his office and over to his private storage of potions where skimmed the labels on the potion vials, looking for a certain bottle. He remembered doing the same thing just last term, and finding the gillyweed was not labeled under 'G' like it was supposed to, and had gone missing. He knew it was Potter who had taken it, but didn't have any evidence of him doing this, so he couldn't make the case. The gillyweed could have been bought in Hogsmeade for all anybody knew. But Snape knew it had been his own. Potter had been up to his tricks again, just like several years ago when boomslang skin and wormwood was gone for him storage mysteriously. Both times he knew who had done it.

Snape set the spare potions in his duffle bag and left it beside the fireplace. He had three hours before he had to deal with the insufferable brat, who was no doubt awake by now. He decided he would calm himself by doing some light studying on a new potion he had been eager to look up on. It was a new solvent that was hypothesized to take on the most powerful poisons and dilute them into nothing but a simple base. Of course, it had been done before, and all results ended up inconclusive, but Severus was optimistic. Potions were like puzzles, something that you had to set your mind to, and it allowed you to think away from everything else. Yes, that was probably what he loved most about potions.

* * *

"Harry! Harry, wake up!"

Harry's eyes snapped open and he sat up in bed with a gasp. There was sweat covering his fevered forehead and he was shivering so hard, he hardly noticed the grasp someone had on his elbows. When he did he gasped again and recoiled away from them. The grasp immediately let go and it allowed Harry to sink into the corner of the bed as he slowly came back to himself. It took him a few minutes to realize that he wasn't in a room with his uncle, and instead Sirius and Professor Lupin were in the room, both hovering near the bed. Harry winced at the piteous looks he was getting as he hesitantly retreated from the corner of the bed and leaned against the headboard in an exhausted fashion. Looking around the room he noticed that it had to be at least early to mid afternoon. He blinked in surprise at realizing just how long he had been sleeping before a nightmare took place. Usually they occurred after three hours.

"Are you alright Harry?" Sirius asked as he slowly sat down on the bed when he knew Harry wasn't going to cringe away from him. He handed him his glasses and Harry placed them gingerly on his face. "That looked like it was a serious nightmare."

Harry nodded. "I'm okay really. I-it wasn't that bad, I promise. Just . . . yeah. . . ," He finished lamely.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Sirius asked cautiously. Harry quickly shook his head, but Sirius pressed. "It's better if do talk about it, you know. If you don't, your nightmares will probably end up getting worse."

"He's right Harry," Professor Lupin said, sitting in a chair beside his bed.

He knew no matter how bad these nightmares were that he would never be able to tell them what they were really about. Sirius and Professor Lupin would hate him if they found out that he was dreaming of them dying because of him and what they had said. They might think that Harry didn't appreciate what they were doing to help him, and he couldn't risk that happening. And besides, he didn't want to bring up the issue of Cedric Diggory's death mainly because he was afraid. He didn't want Sirius and Remus to side with his Uncle and Voldemort and say that he did tell Cedric to take the cup and hadn't warned him to run or anything when he felt his scar hurt. Sure, they didn't agree with him being abused as they have said, but maybe they were wrong. Maybe they would suddenly agree with his uncle after hearing his dreams? No, no he definitely couldn't tell him.

Harry shook his head vigorously. "No, it wasn't anything, I swear. It was just a regular nightmare."

Harry saw Sirius and Remus eye each other with a look that clearly indicated they did not believe him. Harry noticed this look and started to panic. He knew what was coming, and as much as he tried he just couldn't prepare himself for what they were about to do. He was like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, unable to do anything but wait for its impending death by force.

"Harry we need to talk about how you got those injuries," Sirius said. Harry quickly looked up at him, wanting to meet his eye and tell him nothing had happened but he couldn't seem to do it. Instead, he focused on a point somewhere between his neck and shoulder.

"There isn't anything to talk about Sirius," Harry said. "I got into a fight with my cousin, nothing more,"

Professor Lupin sighed, "Harry those injuries don't look like it came from a simple fight from your cousin -"

"It was!" Harry cried out in anger. "He and his gang jumped me and I didn't get away fast enough. It wasn't my uncle!"

The words rang in the air for several moments, as silence hung between the three. It wasn't until Sirius's next words that Harry realized the mistake he had made.

"Harry . . . we didn't say anything about your uncle," He said. Harry eyes widened as his mind reeled.

"But that's what you were thinking wasn't it?" He said a little to angrily. Professor Lupin and Sirius looked at each other for a moment. "That my uncle was hitting me! Well, he wasn't okay? I told you I got into a fight and there is nothing more about it!"

"Harry -" Sirius said.

"No!" Harry yelled. "Yes, my uncle hates me but he wouldn't hit me! He wouldn't stoop that low . . ."

"Harry -"

"Alright so maybe he boxed me a few times and shoved me a little bit but he didn't do this to me! I told you that I got into a fight and there is nothing more to say about it! So just drop it! Please. . . "

"Harry -"

"He didn't do it on purpose! He was drunk, he didn't have any control and he didn't know what he was doing -"

"HARRY!"

Harry looked up at Sirius and he felt all the hope of avoiding the subject with lies dripping away. He probably should have realized it last night when Sirius made it plain that he knew, but he couldn't help himself going into denial. Unwillingly, he felt his eyes start to cloud with tears and he stared at Sirius helplessly.

"Why does he hate me?" He asked, his voice shaking, even though it was merely above a whisper. "I didn't do anything to him."

A sob escaped from his throat, and from that point on he felt like he had no control over his emotions. It was weird, because all of his life his relatives had told him that crying was a weakness and he was only being weak when he did it. He had resigned, if he absolutely felt like he needed to, to crying when there were no witnesses. But it felt like for the past few days that he couldn't control his emotions. Perhaps it was from the sheer relief of knowing that his uncle couldn't hurt him now, or the relief in knowing that Sirius and Professor Lupin seemed to care what happened to him. But all he knew, one minute he was raging that he wasn't being abused by his uncle Vernon, the next Sirius was holding him in a tight embrace as he sobbed into his shirt. He felt like he was falling apart.

"Harry, he had no right - no right - to do what he did to you, do you understand?" Sirius said as Harry sobbed. "That man is nothing but a ruthless bastard and has to be mad to try and lay a hand on you."

Harry didn't answer. He wanted to believe Sirius's words, allowing them to comfort and ease his sobs as he cried, but his mind didn't seem to want to register what they actually meant. He knew that his uncle hated him, and that he had deserved the beatings that he got, but he still didn't understand why his uncle really hated him. Had he seen the quality in Harry himself that had led Cedric to die at the end of the tournament? Did he realize early on that Harry was a murderer and felt he needed to be beaten? That had to be it, because why else would his uncle hit him? He never hit Dudley, and yet he always came right to Harry. Had he known that it was because of him that his parents were dead?

His sobs slowly diminished and soon even the tears had stopped leaking from his eyes. The overwhelming emotions inside him were reduced to nothing more than a dull ache, but he felt he didn't want to leave Sirius's side. The feeling of isolation that he had been having had twinge to an ease a little and he didn't want the isolated feeling to come back. It just hurt too much to even think about it.

"It's like we've said before Harry, taking about it helps." Professor Lupin said who he then realized was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his hand.

Harry quickly shook his head negatively. "I can't. N-not right now,"

"You can't avoid it forever," Sirius said. "It's not healthy to bottle up for emotions like that, and the only way to let it out is by talking about it. Trust me you feel a lot better once you do."

He wanted to talk about it. Oh Merlin, how he wanted to. But as he opened his mouth to let the words roam free, he felt as if his voice had gone to hide somewhere and was not under his control. His doubts were clouding his need to talk about it and taking over. All of the doubts from Sirius blaming him to him deserving what he caught came back to his mind and he found himself, instead of speaking the truth, just shaking his head once again.

"Not now, please." He said, his voice suddenly making an appearance, though it seemed to take on such a small and childlike quality that it didn't even sound like his own.

Professor Lupin sighed and Harry saw him sharing a look with Sirius.

"Alright Harry," Lupin said. "For right now, we won't force you to talk. But when you feel the need to, you can come to us at anytime. Whether it be now or at two o' clock in the morning, we're free to listen, okay?"

Harry nodded, even though he knew the only way he would be willing to talk was through a bottle of veritaserum.

* * *

Sirius and Professor Lupin seemed to try and avoid the subject for the rest of the day and distract Harry from the morbid thoughts that were obviously plaguing him. Tonks had come up after a while with a trey of lunch which he had only picked at, despite Tonks's rather colorful warnings of what would happen if he didn't eat (thankfully she never came through). After his attempt at eating, the four settled into a game of chess that was divided into teams. Harry was paired with Tonks (on her enthusiastic request) and Sirius with Professor Lupin.

The game that ensued was probably one of the most violent he had ever witnessed or participated in (Not including McGonogall's chess set in his first year). It had lasted no less than five minutes, but still by the end of the game, two pawns were smashed to rubble, a rock had somehow gone down the front of Tonk's shirt and Sirius had to dig two pieces of the queen out from under the bed. Harry and Tonks lost this incredible battle, but they had gone down, as Tonks called it, with one hell of a fight. It turns out Sirius was a better chess player than he led on, because of all the future games, he and Professor Lupin kept winning.

The more time he spent around Sirius and Tonks, Harry could tell that they were related. Of course, neither looked anything alike. Sirius, after spending twelve years in Azkaban had gaunt features and unusual paleness, and Tonks of course, being a metamorphmagus never exactly looked the way she was supposed to. Nevertheless, it was the habits and characteristics of each that told Harry they were related. Both were funny and had such uplifting spirits, Harry couldn't help but feel himself cheer up a little. And among all that, they both seemed to make it their mission together to make Harry as happy as he possibly could. And their combined efforts were nearly succeeding, they were pleased to note. Sirius was sarcastic, witty and childlike, while Tonks held the juvenile attitude of a five year old who had too much chocolate in their system. With the two of them combined, he wondered how Professor Lupin could ever manage to put with them alone in the same house.

During the four rounds of chess they played (none as brutal as the first) the three adults confessed about the previous night with Professor Snape. Harry had been horrified and completely embarrassed when he had heard that Snape had healed him, but managed out a laugh when Professor Lupin explained that Sirius had pouted and wanted to wring Snape's neck with his bare hands the moment he stepped in through the door. They had also reassured him that Snape knew nothing about the abuse, and rather seemed to assume he had done something reckless and foolhardy.

"So you're sure he doesn't know anything about it?" Harry asked nervously.

"I'm positive," Professor Lupin said. "He should be back here around six tonight to check on you and make sure there isn't anything wrong with your injuries. He's promised to be on your best behavior, and you should be on yours too."

"Snape, on his best behavior?" Sirius snorted. "That's as good as trying to get a pixie to stand still."

As much as Harry dreaded it, six p.m. came quickly and soon Tonks was coming into the room telling him and Sirius that Professor Snape had arrived by floo. Harry had already tried asking if it were possibly for someone else to come and check on him, and Sirius had crushed his hope by saying there wasn't anyone available. And after Professor Lupin refused to knock Harry out for the proceedings, he gave up and decided he would just have to ride it through.

"Don't worry Harry," Tonks said as she sat down on the edge of the bed and sat indian style, leaning on the wall. "If Snape does anything funny, Sirius and I will beat him up for you."

"Yeah, then Remus'll bite him." Sirius said. He smirked until Professor Lupin hit him in the back of his head. Nevertheless, it had made Harry smile so Lupin did not put much effort in the gesture.

There was a knock on the door and Harry stiffened when Professor Lupin opened it and Professors Snape and Dumbledore stepped inside the room. Snape gave his usual sneer at him, and Dumbledore gave a small smile, an unusual grim look in his blue eyes.

"Ah Harry, how are you feeling child?" Dumbledore asked. Harry gave a weak smile.

"Better sir, thank you." He said quietly. "Professor," He added nodding over at Professor Snape.

"Potter," He said. "Let's get this over with so we can go our separate ways shall we?"

Harry was more than glad to agree. Harry sat silently as Snape healed the rest of his broken bones that couldn't be healed from overloaded magic the night before and applied salves and potions. He hardly realized he glanced at Sirius Tonks and Professor Lupin every few minutes just to check that they were still there, and was glad to see them in the corner talking quietly with Professor Dumbledore.

"Well you really did a number on yourself this time, Potter," Snape said towards the end of the examination when he applied the last of the salve on his back. Harry stilled and he noticed Sirius quickly look their way. "Another stupid stunt I presume?"

"Yeah," Harry said quietly and distracted, busy looking pleadingly at Sirius who was slowly coming over to the bed to make sure nothing went on. Neither noticed Snape look up at Harry with a curious eyebrow raised.

"No fighting Potter?" He said. "What, did that concussion you receive manage knock some sense into you?"

It had to have happened in the blink of an eye. One minute, Harry was staring at Snape with a loss for words, and less than a split second later he was gone, pinned up against the wall with Sirius holding on tightly to his color with a look of murderous rage. Harry's eyes widened, as he stared from the fury in Sirius's face to the shock and slight sneer lingering in Snape's.

"Sirius!" Lupin yelled and rushed forward struggling to pull Sirius back.

"Don't you ever say that to him again!" Sirius snarled as he fought against Lupin who was only managing to pull Sirius back with Tonks's help. "Get out of here now!"

"Sirius, calm down," Dumbledore said sternly. Sirius glared at him and ripped himself away from Lupin's slacking grip and stood glaring daggers at the potion's master.

"Fine, I was finished with Potter anyways," He said sleekly. "Your wonder boy should be healed in a few days with some bed rest. Make sure he sticks with his potion's schedule until then. If I'm needed, please hesitate to call." He headed to the bed and picked up his bag and brushed off his collar. As he did this, Harry stared at him as he turned and nodded to the headmaster.

He reached the door and turned to close. For the briefest of seconds as Harry watched, he could have sworn he saw a small nod given in his direction before the door closed and he was gone.

* * *

Authors Note: Okay, so basically 97 percent of you agreed to Remus/Tonks. It was a little disheartening because I was hoping for a little Weasley action but hey, they're will be other fanfictions. Anyway, thank you for the response, and just to let you know, if I can get the next chapter finished quick enough, I will post early on Wednesday or after next weekend, because I'm performing a Shakespearean play and I'll be rather busy (It's Hamlet in a Harry Potter style! Brilliant, if you ask me). Anyways, the more reviews I get the more inspiration and the more inspiration the quicker I write! (help me get 100 reviews please?) I hope you like this chapter because I had to write 4 drafts to get it right, one of which was totally perfect before it got deleted and I hadn't saved it so I had to write it over! Oh the effort and woes. Enjoy and Review

BlondxCrayon


	5. Breaking the Ice

Standing Beside the Fallen

Chapter 5 - Breaking the Ice

Three days had past since the confrontation between Sirius and Professor Snape and ever since, Sirius had not been in a very good mood. Of course, there was the fake cheerful mood that he used around Harry to try and keep his spirits up, but Harry could see through the mask and knew that the man was very angry. He guessed that it was fueled by Professor Lupin, who he had heard from Tonks, had told Sirius off for attacking him. Since then, they had been glaring at each other, and when they were in the room with each other, it was usually tense enough to drive them into silence and it had only caused Harry to become very uncomfortable.

Tonks, after noticing how uncomfortable Harry really was, had secretly pulled Sirius and Professor Lupin aside and told them off for letting their problems show in front of Harry and told them they weren't aloud to sit with him until they made up. After that, things between the two had gone back to normal, though Sirius still seemed to be a little sour, but definitely in better spirits.

Harry had been restricted to bed rest for three days straight, and it was easy to see how restless he was becoming. Sitting in a bed all day and having nothing to do only brought back bad memories of being at the Dursleys, and he couldn't go to sleep without risking having a violent nightmare, so usually he ended up reading a lot or talking with someone in the house over frivolous things from Quidditch to the people on the chocolate frog cards. Even though he spent a lot of time resting, hardly any of it was spent actually sleeping. He went to bed late and woke up very early, and got little sleep each night. The dark circles under his eyes that had started to disappear were back with full force.

His nightmares hadn't been loud enough to wake anybody in the house as of yet, but it seemed they all knew he was having some bad nights. One night he woke up and saw Sirius in his dog form at the foot of the bed. He had immediately transformed when he saw Harry in distress and it had taken him a half hour to calm the boy down. After that, Sirius had been trying to scrounge up a dreamless sleep potion, but it was yet to happen.

But now, it was early morning and Harry woke up from the usual light sleep after a nightmare he had usually had. He looked around and saw that Sirius was gone, probably downstairs to make breakfast, since he could smell it from downstairs. He sat up and stretched the sleep from his body and gave a small smile in relief when he realized it was the end of his bed restriction. As of today he could get up and about, as long as he promised to take it easy. He got up from the bed and headed over to his trunk where he rummaged through and grabbed a sweatshirt and a pair of Dudley's old jeans and headed into the bathroom for a quick shower.

Afterwards, he headed into the kitchen and saw everybody already sitting down. They looked up when he entered and Harry smiled shyly and sat down beside Sirius at the table who gave him a brief one armed hug. Sirius noticed that Harry had tensed and nearly winced at the action, but didn't say anything against it.

"Good morning, kiddo." He said. "How are you feeling? Tired? Winded? Do you want to go lay down?"

Harry looked at him oddly.

"Sirius, we've talked about this." Tonks said sternly over her coffee. "He's fine, he just walked down two flights of stairs. Now, either you lay off him or we'll lock you up in a room with Kreacher."

Sirius immediately shutup after that.

Harry sat quietly, trying to keep the smirk off his face from what Tonks had just done to Sirius, but was failing miserably. So to cover it up, he took a long sip from his orange juice and only looked up when he saw an owl fly in through the window. It was small and easily fit through the small crack opening, and it zoomed so fast inside it ended up hitting the wall and falling to the floor.

"What the hell is that?" Tonks asked who had taken out her wand.

"That's Pig," Harry said smiling as he got up and headed over to the owl that recovered and was now flying around Harry's head.

"It's Ron's owl," Sirius clarified as Harry had been receiving some odd looks from the people at the table. "He just has a weird name."

"Why?" Kingsley asked.

Harry dove out his arm and caught the bird in his palm with a fast reflex and quickly untied the letter before letting the bird go. "Ginny actually named him Pigwidgeon but Ron wanted to name him something else but he wouldn't respond to anything. So instead, he shortened it to Pig to make it sound better."

"It doesn't," Tonks muttered to Sirius who snorted into his tea.

Harry shook his head as he ripped open the letter. With what had been happening over the last few days, Harry had thought long and hard about whether he should inform Ron and Hermione about what his uncle did to him, since they would eventually find out sooner or later, with his not going back there and all. But in the end, after a few minutes of deliberation and hours trying to convince himself, he decided not to tell them, at least for now. He was already trying to get used to Sirius knowing, but he didn't even want to bear his friends reactions.

Unfolding the letter, he recognized Ron's scrawled writing on the parchment and read.

_Dear Harry,_

_As we've been saying for the past two months, we're not really allowed to say much in this letter, and I'm sorry if we sound short sighted but you should know by now why this is so. As for when exactly we can see you, I really don't know. I've been asking mum every day, and she always says that she doesn't know and has to ask Professor Dumbledore exactly. At first, we were supposed to come and see you in two weeks, but then Professor Dumbledore came and said that the time was extended due to circumstances, which he wouldn't mention. So I dunno how long it's going to be before we see you. Hopefully it will be at least a week before Hogwarts, I'm dying here with only Hermione to hang with. After she hit me over the head, she told me to say hello to you._

_Anyways, things are as normal as they can be around here. Fred and George have taken their apparation test, and unfortunately passed. I say unfortunately because they have been apparating instead of walking wherever they go. And I mean from their room to the kitchen, living room to the loo, and even the kitchen table to the sink. It's bloody annoying. Anyways, Mum has said we're all going to go to Diagon Alley on August 15th. If we're not seeing you before then, is there any chance we can meet up? Hermione and I would love to see you. _

_See you soon mate (hopefully)_

_Ron (and Hermione)_

Harry sighed and folded up the letter and put it into his pocket before mutely turning back to his food. He did not notice that the entire table was watching him.

"What's the matter?" Sirius asked. Harry looked up and quickly blushed when he realized he was being watched.

He shook his head negatively.

"It's nothing really," Harry said. "Just that Ron asked if I could go to the Diagon Alley with him." He said this nonchalantly, since he knew with all the protection he had been getting over the summer that there was absolutely no chance that anybody was going to led him go. And sure enough, when he glanced up he saw them all giving each other uneasy looks.

"When," Sirius asked slowly.

"The fifteenth of August." He said and turned back to his breakfast.

"Well I don't see why you can't." Sirius said with a shrug. Harry quickly looked up at him, his fork full of egg stopped halfway to his mouth. "As long as Remus, Tonks and Kingsley agree to go with you. I'll speak to Dumbledore about it, you have to get your things anyways -"

"Really?" Harry said excitedly. "You mean I can really go?"

Sirius grinned. "Sure, why not?" He said. "And I'll also ask Dumbledore if I can accompany you as well in dog form. It'll be fun don't you think?"

Harry's grin slowly slipped off his face as the table around them went dead silent. Harry swallowed and said in a nervous voice. "Sirius, are you sure that's safe? I mean you are a wanted criminal and I don't want you getting caught -"

"I won't get caught," Sirius reassured him, seemingly oblivious to Professor Lupin who was shaking his head with his hand on his forehead. "Nobody besides the Order, you, Ron and Hermione know of me being an animagus."

"That's not entirely true Sirius and you know it," Professor Lupin cut in. "Peter knows of your being an animagus and will most likely have told Voldemort as well, and therefore his followers will be on the lookout for you. If they find you, they will have no hesitation in trying to make out who you really are in the public."

"Remus your being no fun," Sirius said, who was not smiling anymore but looking increasingly disgruntled. "I mean the chances of my being caught are hardly anything and I've been cooped up in this house so long I've barely seen sunlight in a month. I mean I can't be kept here forever, what do you expect me to do stay in here for the rest of my life and follow orders of doing nothing but cleaning and cooking like a regular house maid?"

At the end of his sentence, his voice started to rise and he stood. Harry winced, ducking his head and tensing himself. Professor Lupin seemed to notice his action and stood as well, glaring at Sirius angrily.

That is enough Sirius." He said warningly. Sirius glared at him before turning and stomping up the stairs, slamming the kitchen door so loud that the wailing of Mrs. Black's portrait went off. Kingsley and Tonks rushed upstairs to silence in and it left Harry and Professor Lupin alone in the kitchen. Harry's head was still ducked, staring down at his breakfast but having no interest in it.

He couldn't help but feel like it was his fault that Sirius was angry. He had brought up the topic in the first place, and it had led Sirius to get angry that he couldn't leave the house. It was the only reason why he was angry with him either. He was even more angry at the fact that when Sirius started to yell, he had felt a little glimmer of fear in the pit of his stomach. _This was Sirius_, he kept reminding himself, _not Uncle Vernon_. Why was he scared of Sirius, just because he was angry didn't mean he was going to hit him. Sirius would never do that! But still it had been there.

He felt sorry that Sirius couldn't leave his mothers house, having to know what it was like being locked up. He had been all of his life, whether it was in a small cramped little cupboard or in his dingy bedroom with the boarded up window and locks on the door. He wished that Sirius could come with him to Diagon Alley, to freely walk down the road without being cursed or killed because people thought him to be a murderer. But as much as he felt for Sirius, he knew that the risk was too great. He'd rather have his godfather here than locked up in Azkaban, or worse, sitting with no soul or memories, or even dead. He shivered at the thought.

"Harry?"

Harry quickly looked up and realized that Professor Lupin was watching him. Why was everybody watching him today?

"Oh, Sorry Professor," Harry said quietly. "I was just thinking."

Professor Lupin nodded. "You know Harry that he wasn't angry with you right? Sirius was only angry over the fact that he couldn't leave the house. It had nothing to do with you."

Harry nodded. "I know that." He said, and he really did. His voice just didn't seem to sound convincing enough before Lupin kept staring at him. "I just feel bad for bringing up the subject. I'm sorry, if you don't want me to go to Diagon Alley with the Weasleys than I'll be glad to just stay here with Sirius-"

"No." He said firmly and Harry blinked at him. "Sirius would never want you to miss a trip to Diagon Alley just because he couldn't go. He's just in a bad mood. I'll go talk to him later, and he'll be absolutely fine before lunch. He just needs to brood in his own self pity for a while," He ended this with a light smirk, which Harry tried to return, but it seemed to artificial for either of them to believe.

Harry, after realizing that breakfast was basically finished started to clean the table. The action seemed mechanic and he did it so smoothly and without thinking that when Lupin grabbed his wrist he jumped and nearly dropped the plates he was holding in his hand.

"Put those down, I'll clean up here." He said. "It's a lot easier with magic and I don't want you doing any chores. You're still resting and I think you've done enough to last a lifetime."

"Are you sure?" He asked a little hesitantly, eyeing the mess left on the table. He nodded and Harry sighed. "Thanks, Professor."

There was a moment where Lupin stared at Harry in a slight thought, but before he could even start to feel uncomfortable, Lupin said, "Sit down, Harry."

Harry did so and sat down in a chair and Professor Lupin sat opposite of each other. "We've been living in this house together for almost a week now and plan to spend it until the end of the summer. I think, for us to get to know each other, we should drop the formality and learn to be comfortable with each other. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Harry nodded. "Yes." He said, and then after a few seconds he blinked. "No." He added in an afterthought and Professor Lupin chuckled.

He looked Harry in the eye and stood up. "Call me Remus." He said and started to clear the table with his wand, levitating the dishes to the sink. Harry watched him, blinking rather stupidly. Oh.

* * *

After breakfast Harry had gone up to the library to check out the large volume of books that the Black family held. Kingsley had told him that it was wise to only read the books that were on the tables and not the shelves, since those were the only ones scanned for Dark Magic, and didn't hold things inside too gruesome for him to read. He had skimmed through a rather thick and dusty defense book and saw some very ancient and . . . colorful looking spells. They were creative to say the least, but something that Harry thought he would never end up using.

It wasn't until he was looking through a biography of the last decades Minister's of Magic that he heard the low rumbles of yelling coming from the room across from him. Harry's first instinct was to go and see what was going on, since he had that natural Gryffindor curiosity about him, but then his second thought was that he didn't want anyone to be angry that he was listening. It wasn't until he heard his name in the sea of inaudible yells that his ears perked up and deciding, he slowly crept towards the door. He looked through the keyhole of the library and saw that Sirius and Remus were in Sirius's bedroom at the end of the hall and yelling at each other.

" . . . and now he thinks it's his fault that your pissed off and is downstairs blaming himself for your bad mood!" Remus shouted. "You know not to loose control in front of him Sirius, you should have learnt that the first time with Severus! He was afraid of you when you started yelling! When he hears yelling, it only reminds him of his bastard uncle and he could be driven towards a panic attack!"

"I'm sorry, but all I was trying to do was get my point across -"

"And you did! You have, Sirius several times before and you didn't need to this time! Right now, Harry is emotionally unstable and because of it, he's blaming the worlds problems on himself and that's something we have to change and it's not going to happen if you go around exploding because you feel sorry for yourself. If he keeps going around thinking of himself as a burden and that nobody wants him, he's going to cause irreparable damage to himself. Whenever he starts feeling insecure, you can tell, and he goes around constantly apologizing or starting to clean, which was what he was doing in the kitchen. He falls back into old habits, which cause for triggers of memories. If this keeps going on then the consequences of us not helping could be serious."

"You think I don't know that? You think that I don't want to help him and let him go around thinking I don't care about him or, or that I don't want him? Harry is one of the very limited people in this world that I trust and love and I'll do anything for him which includes letting him know and believe me of that!"

"Than learn to control yourself in front of him or I'll have to separate you from him until you can." He ended and was gone, sweeping down the hall and past the library and towards the stairs. Harry looked back at Sirius and saw that he was looking very frustrated and closed the door with a tight snap.

Harry turned away from the door and slowly headed back to where he had been reading sliding down into his chair. Things just seem to be getting way too complicated for his liking. Not that they weren't before anyways.

He tried to sit down and read some chapters from the book in front of him, but found that his mind was still concentrated on the conversation between Sirius and Remus. Several minutes went by before he sighed and closed the book, placing it neatly back where he found it. He decided to head downstairs and see what Tonks was up to, since she was most likely up to something like she always was.

He walked down the stairs and stopped on the landing when he saw Tonks and Remus coming down the hall, both carrying two large cans of paint and several brushes. Harry looked on curiously.

"We're painting the drawing room!" Tonks said, bouncing with each step. "And we're doing it the muggle way! You get a better job out of it, well at least Remus thinks. So, are you becoming our new recruit or what?"

Harry smiled and shrugged. "Sure why not? He said grinning. "Let me just go change so I don't get paint on my clothes."

"Stop," Tonks said as Harry turned to head back upstairs and he looked around. "Don't bother. I'll just buy you some more clothes later. Merlin knows how I'm not going to let you wander around in those for any longer. My new summer goal is to make you look fashionable and hot and that's what I'm going to do."

Harry blushed but didn't say anything as he followed Tonks into the room. Leave it to her to be his fashion stylist.

They entered the room and Harry looked around, having not been in here yet. He knew that the house had been going under a massive cleaning binge, and from what he had heard, it had been disgusting the first time they had entered the house this summer. But they had made it habitable, and even if you couldn't come in some of the rooms, others were just finished at being worked on, including the drawing room. Tonks had called that room her own little project and had taken to decorating it with bright boughs of furniture and accessories, and from what Harry could tell, she was painting the room a mix of purple and blue. But all of it was covered with sheets for their painting job.

Harry saw a large stained tarp on the floor to cover any paint they might (or will in their case) drip, and over by the wall was an old worn tapestry, and as Remus pointed out, simply could not be removed. Tonks added her bits of not worrying about getting paint on it, considering she was going to cover it up anyways.

Tonks took out a WWN from her supplies and turned it up full blast onto the MMN station, which stood for Muggle Music Network. On it was a familiar list of songs Harry remembered hearing from before Hogwarts when Dudley would blast up his radio just to annoy Harry when he was trying to do his homework. They got down to business and started to paint, Tonks singing along with the music on the radio and doing weird dances while Harry and Remus looked on and laughed. Although the actual painting part wasn't very fun, Tonks seemed to have her own way of making work fun, another reason Harry liked her so much.

About a half hour after they started painting, Tonks tapped Harry on the shoulder and he looked around to see her grinning impishly, her finger held over her lips. She glanced back at Remus and made a gesture that made Harry have trouble holding back his laughter. She crept silently up behind Remus and held up her brush.

"Hey Remus," She yelled over the music.

SMACK

Remus had turned his head in the exact wrong way and direction as when he did, Tonks's sopping purple paintbrush smacked him straight in the cheek. Harry and Tonks doubled over with laughter at seeing the disgusted expression on his face as he futilely tried to wipe the pain off and only managed to smear it on his face more. Tonks held up the other brush and slapped his other cheek with the blue paint.

"You should see your face!" Tonks roared with laughter. "You look like a pissed off smurf!"

This only caused Harry and Tonks to laugh even more and Tonks fell over, unable to keep herself standing any longer. Remus glared at her and picked up a roller, dipped it in the blue paint and unceremoniously rolled it onto her howling face. She screamed and jumped up, sputtering paint from her face. "Who's a smurf now?" He said innocently.

"Oh your dead wolf!" Tonks said. She stopped and looked around at Harry before turning back to Remus. "You know, he looks a little too clean for me, don't you?"

Harry immediately stopped laughing and his eyes going wide. He turned and made to run from the room but found Tonks had grabbed a purple roller and clamped it onto his head and rolled it through his hair. He could feel the beads of the cold paint flowing down his scalp as he yelped and looked back at them.

He grabbed up a brush and all hell broke loose. Soon, purple and blue paint was flying everywhere, and Harry could not longer see since it was smeared on his glasses, but it did not disable him enough to stop him. He attacked, dumping his hands, brushes, rollers, sponges and anything he could find into the paint buckets and attacking. It wasn't three minutes later that the three were covered from head to foot in paint and were collapsed on the ground laughing.

"What's going on," Said a voice at the door.

The three looked over and saw Sirius entering the room, clearly trying to stifle his laughter from the sight of the three. In unison, each stood up and grabbed a bucket of paint and splashed it at the man, covering him in the array of color they themselves bore.

"Nice." Sirius said with a fake scowl. "What do you all have to say for yourselves with this bought of immaturity?"

Of course, everyone knew he was joking, even Harry. So he had no hesitation in grinning and saying, "I'm first in the shower," before getting up and racing Tonks out of the room.

Even though it had left a huge mess, left them all dirty and wet, and would eventually have to be cleaned up and repainted neatly, nobody regretted their paint fight, especially Harry. It had been exactly what he had needed to forget everything that had happened for the past summer and more, and just enjoy himself being a kid and having fun. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so free and careless. It was a feeling he hated see go as the reality of the world came back to him. As he stepped into the shower and closed his eyes, he smiled at the memory. Why couldn't life always be like this?

* * *

Authors Note: A thousand apologies for the delay, just remember killing the author for lateness is not going to make me update faster. Anyways, I also apologize for this chapter, I _hate it_ dearly but I wanted some happy scenes in there before I start to torment Harry again (grins). My play went wonderful, thanks for everyone who wished me luck, and my mid-years started today (Just to let you know – My outline in the back of my math notebooks, yeah, wish it were notes instead –oops), and I'm procrastinating right now so, yay for procrastination!

My next update will be this weekend, I promise and it is also when I'll be posting a new story! So remember to go and check that out after you read next weeks chapter.

Oh, and I also seem to be forgetting to reply to people's questions in reviews so I'm posting some frequently asked ones in my profile (be up tomorrow), and if you have one I didn't answer, post it in a review and I will next week. Thanks again to you all, and keep reviewing. There was a huge decline last week and it didn't help to my massive writer's block I was having! I need inspiration to keep going or else I'll end up being late more and more! So please Review!


	6. Talking it Out, Part I

Standing Beside the Fallen

Chapter Six - Talking it out, Part I

Flying on a broomstick had to be the best feeling in the world. The safe and secure feeling of pushing through the air and feeling it gently whip at your body, the open and relaxing poise set on the broomstick, and the thought that there was nothing to stop you from moving forward was what made flying the wonder that it really was. It was here, on a broomstick that Harry felt the safest in the world, away from the danger on the ground that constantly crept in the corner of his eyes like a lurking shadow. Up here, he could be free, he could be Harry.

The sky was dark, pitch black with no stars and no moon. It looked merely just like miles of endless ebony waves soaking the world above. As he flew, the only light was the specks from the town below, the moving cars on the streets, the streetlights and the lights from inside the people's homes. So far up in the air, it looked more like a maze. A maze of light leading you from one end to another. It was beautiful. The wind was warm for a summer's night, and he felt like he did not need a jacket or anything to cover up with. The air swept in through his clothing gently, making him feel elated just to be able to move through it.

As he flew on, he realized that the lights below him were growing thinner and it was harder to see anything down on the ground. The darkness was creeping in on him, and with no stars and moonlight it looked more eerie than it did magnificent. A sudden chill was sped down his spine as he started to feel his broom jerk. His thoughts turned towards the Quidditch math in his first year, in which he had been attacked by Quirrel so that his broomstick would throw him off. A curse had to be doing this to his broom, otherwise, why would it be trying to buck him off?

Harry yelped and grabbed onto his broom tighter as he felt the nose tip downwards and suddenly he was falling, falling hundreds of feet, speeding like a comet down towards the earth, nothing to slow him down but air resistance, which obviously wasn't going to help him very much. He closed his eyes as he saw the ground inching nearer and nearer. This was it, he was bound to die. It was ironic, that the end of the boy-who-lived was from the force of a sidewalk on his broom. What a pitiful way to die. He sensed the sidewalk underneath him, and bracing himself he took a deep breath -

He was walking now, smoothly and straight backed down a dark hallway. The torches on the wall barely flickered with life, and the paintings and tapestries loomed like forgotten shadows in the darkness. He blinked and his eyes narrowed, a look of vindictive pleasure creeping on his ugly features. Behind him, the sounds of half a dozen men walked quietly, armed and ready for what they were about to do.

He had been waiting to do this for several long and agonizing years. And finally tonight he was going to do what he should have done fourteen years ago.

In the blink of an eye the stone passage he had walked down was gone, and the surroundings were replaced by a suburban area street, the stillness of night lurking in every corner. Streetlights shone above them, shining against the white masks of the men behind them. Without hesitation, he started to walk up the drive of one very ordinary house. The only difference of this house besides all of the others was the number of the house - Number Four Privet Drive.

Without hesitation, Lord Voldemort proceeded to raise his wand and blow the door clean off its hinges in an explosion of flames. It was send swiftly down the hall and lay burning the kitchen some ten feet away. He paid no attention as his men proceeded in front of him, half going upstairs to find the boy and his relatives, the rest send to search the downstairs, destroying anything in their path. He heard the screams upstairs belonging to a woman, and the yelps of a teenaged boy, and a satanic sneer spread on his face, his features twisted to resemble that of an ugly withered snake.

Voldemort slowly headed up the stairs, savoring each step in his memory as the approaching death of Harry Potter. It felt so sweet to know that the boy was caught in his hands, with no protection, and blackmail so severe that he would no doubt give up his life with the brave stubbornness such a Gryffindor could possess. The ultimate blackmail that made little Potter weak - his family. Blackmail was Voldemort's favorite word.

He reached the landing and he savored the sounds around him, as though he were getting physical pleasure from the noise. He could hear the boys aunt screaming, a haunting screech that came only with the pain of a cruciatus. Ah, one of his favorite spells. He could hear the boy, Potter's cousin, yelling and crying, and the furious bellows of the oversized muggle uncle. Downstairs, the sounds of breaking china, flames and splintering wood entered his ears. Ah, bliss.

But where was Potter? Surely he would have heard the boy's pleas by now. He fingered his wand in his long and deathly pale fingers as he walked menacingly down the hall and entered the room where the torture took place. It was a basic muggle room, matching bed and furniture with a flower petal decor. The woman, a blond horse looking woman was lying on the ground, bleeding and lying at an odd angle. Her eyes were wide and staring unblinkingly up at the ceiling. By now, she was obviously dead, given into the pain. No surprise from such a weak muggle. That was the drawback of playing with muggles, they always died quicker than muggleborns and half bloods did.

The fat ugly man was cowering in the corner, shaking and yelling for his Death Eaters not to kill him. A putrid smell reached Voldemort's nose and he smirked. The man had wet himself from fright no doubt. One of his men, his most trusted of course, stepped forward. Lucius Malfoy had a grace about him, something that Voldemort had always admired. There was a craft to his killing that nobody else could match. The man enjoyed murder almost as much as Voldemort did, and he prized this in his followers.

With the raise of a wand and in the blink of an eye, the overlarge muggle was dead, crumpled on the floor face down, only a few feet away from his wife. Disgusting, he thought to himself as he gazed upon the room. The boy, the teenaged cousin of Potter no doubt was hidden in the closet, hardly fitting in the slim walls, his bulk hanging out from the door. His limp figure told Voldemort immediately that this boy was dead as well, never having stood a chance. But, as satisfying as these murders were, he wanted to ultimate one. He wanted Potter.

"My Lord," Said the voice of Macnair behind him. He turned and glowered at the man, and he was pleased to see the man noticeably shiver with fear. "My Lord, we can't find Potter. He's not here."

Voldemort himself felt like a fool at that very moment. And when Voldemort felt like a fool, his anger flared. And when his anger flared, people were usually tortured or even killed from his bad mood. Foolishness and embarrassment were not something he liked to have happen to him, especially now, when he had been so close to having Harry Potter in his grasp.

"WHAT?" He bellowed and stalked past Macnair throwing the man unconscious into a wall in the process. He proceeded to check every room, noticing the bare room at the end, no trunk or magical items in any. Voldemort screamed in anger. Potter had slipped away again!

Three minutes later, the house of Number Four Privet Drive was gone, and Vernon, Petunia and Dudley Dursley were all dead, their bodies encased inside a flame infested home, smoldering ashes keeping out the on-looking neighbors and police officers. The only evidence of foul play as they could see from the house, was an illuminated mark in the sky, in the shape of a skull with a snake protruding from it's mouth.

In the darkness, Voldemort stalked off, his anger flowing off of him like rivulets. He was intent on making somebody pay for his own miscalculations. Because Voldemort never made a mistake, and never would. He disaperated to a room full of fearful Death Eaters, were he freely let the curses fly, screams of anger heard above the cries of pain.

In the heart of London, inside the dusty old house of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place chaos reigned. The inhabitants had been woken up several minutes ago to pain filled screams and pleas, and all had rushed up to the bedroom on the second floor to where they had come from. Harry Potter was currently screaming at the top of his lungs, clawing at his forehead and thrashing so hard in bed that his head hit the wall with a sickening crash, echoing through the room and even above the boy's screams.

Every person in the house was accustomed to Harry's dreams but none had ever been this bad before. Never had Harry been thrashing around so hard that nobody could get near him, and never had they heard his screams so filled with pain and agony. It broke all their hearts as they rushed in, screaming for the boy to wake up but it was absolute no use. As much as they shook him, restrained him, and yelled, the boy was lost in his own world, the world of an agony filled nightmare.

It took nearly five minutes before Sirius had managed to get Harry to open his eyes and wake up, but the screams did not stop. Sirius was on top of him holding his arms in place while Remus and Kingsley held onto his legs, pinning him to the bed. Tonks had rushed downstairs to the fireplace, quickly trying to get a hold of Dumbledore and Severus Snape, or somebody who could diagnose something so that Harry would not be in such pain.

It was obvious that Harry was having a Voldemort induced dream. His forehead was bleeding from the claw marks made around his scar, the actual scar raw red and vibrantly pink. Harry's voice had started to go hoarse with the intensity of his screams and Sirius knew that Harry would be lucky if he still had his vocal cords intact if he kept this up. The boy screamed in pain, feeling the sensation so badly that his mind was burning to nothing and Harry could not tell what he was doing, where he was, or why he couldn't move. It was just too much to deal with.

It felt like an eternity, an eternity filled with yells of pain, pleas and tears before Harry's screams died and the boy went limp, too exhausted to even blink as his chest rose and fell quickly, taking in long and shallow breaths. The grips on his hands and legs receded and Sirius got up from the bed, hovering by the boy's head.

"Harry?" He said urgently. "Harry, can you hear me?"

Through the haze of fog and pain, Harry was sure that he could hear a voice. It sounded distant and the tone was filled with urgency and fear. He wanted to reach the voice and find out what they were saying to him but it was too much effort. He wanted to drift into unconsciousness, to not have to feel this pain, but something was not allowing him to do this. There was something nagging at his head, something that he needed to say. But he couldn't remember what it was.

There was a commotion somewhere around him and as the fog slowly started to clear he could make out snippets of conversation, yells, cries, panicked voices . . . he thought he even recognized some. He could hear Sirius, who for some reason sounded near hysterics and was shouting very loudly. He thought he had heard Dumbledore, and most oddly enough Professor Snape. But it was too much effort to open his eyes and find out if he were alone or in the company of others. Oh wait a second, his eyes were open.

He found himself staring up the ceiling, Sirius's face swimming in and out of view as his wide eyes blinked finally registering him. Already aware of the searing pain in his head, and the sense of exhaustion that consumed his body, he concentrated on breathing and listening to what Sirius was saying. Because he was moving his lips but the words could not seem to register in his mind.

Oh hey, there they were.

". . . Please Harry if you can understand what I'm saying just say something and if you can't just squeeze my hand!" He yelled. Harry noted that Sirius's eyes were glassy and his cheeks were streaked with tears. Harry found himself surprised. Was Sirius crying because of him? He found himself obeying Sirius's orders and managed a quiet rasp.

"Sir'us?"

"Yes, Harry, thank Merlin!" Sirius yelled and hastily wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Good, he's coherent now Black, now will you get the hell out of my way!" Spat a horrible voice to his side. It took a minute for Harry to realize that it was Professor Snape. Sirius gave him a brief, watery smile and squeezed his hand before he left Harry's line of vision and Snape entered, sneering horribly down at him.

"Cant you keep yourself out of trouble for two seconds?" Snape sneered.

"It was a Voldemort dream Severus, as you know," Said a calm lucid voice somewhere in front of him. He had no trouble recognizing at as Dumbledore. It took a moment as Snape checked his pupils and pulse what exactly he had said. A Voldemort dream . . .

It came back to him so plainly that he gasped and felt Sirius jump beside him. In a fit of adrenaline he sat up quickly, nearly colliding with Snape's head. His eyes went wide as the memories rushed back to him and the emotions of guilt and horror flooded into him.

"Voldemort. . . " He rasped out, turning his aching head and looking Dumbledore straight in the face. " Voldemort . . . Dursley's . . . dead." His throat was so raw that he could hardly make out the words, but Dumbledore understood them as though they had been shouted in his ears.

"Are you sure, Harry?" He asked quietly. Harry nodded and Dumbledore nodded to him and swept out of the room, calling for Kingsley, Tonks and Remus to follow him. Sirius grabbed Harry's shoulders and forced him to lye down again. Harry had no trouble complying as he closed his eyes and allowed the tears to leak through. He didn't care that Snape was hovering on top of him, watching as he cried. All he knew was that his relatives were dead, and it was entirely his fault.

* * *

It had been a mixture of emotional exhaustion and a string of spells that had forced Harry into a dreamless sleep after the Voldemort nightmare he had had that night. Snape had quickly gave him a checkup and a few potions and declared him healthy enough before leaving, no doubt to check up with Dumbledore and see if Harry's accusations were true. Sirius had sat with Harry for several hours before several Order members came flooing back to the house, where he left momentarily to see what was going on.

This was how Harry awoke, to the sounds of talking and hard arguing voices. They sounded close as if they were coming from outside of his bedroom door. He rolled over and tried to get himself to go back to sleep. He didn't care to know why his head was hurting so badly or why people were awake at such an hour at night. He just wanted to go to sleep.

But the voices sounded as they were coming closer, as if they were walking towards him. Grudgingly, Harry opened his eyes and blinked, staring at the alarm clock on his nightstand, the blurry numbers telling him it was ten past three in the morning! He groaned and groped in the darkness for his glasses and slid them on his face. He sat up and felt his head swimming, an unbearable headache forming everywhere in his head. His throat felt raw, but nothing that a drink of water couldn't cure, he hoped.

He suddenly realized as he looked towards his door, that he could hear as a group of people walked up the stairs towards his bedroom. He pierced his hearing as he stood up in bed, and after steadying himself, he crept to the door and pressed it against the keyhole.

". . . and Harry saw it all in a vision did he," Said a woman's voice, which sounded merely familiar to him.

"Yes." Someone sighed, and he realized it was Remus. "It was absolutely horrible. We all thought for a few moments that Harry was going to die, that's how intense his dream was. When he came out of it, we momentarily thought he had lost his mind from the cruciatus curse or something until he recognized Sirius. I could tell that even Severus was relieved that he was aware. That and surprised. . . "

"That has to be absolutely horrible," Tonks said as their voices stopped in traveling, and Harry guessed they had stopped at the top of the stairs. "Witnessing your relatives die like that!"

"They abused him!" Sirius hissed. "And they left him in an emotionally crippled state with no sympathy at all. I'm saying they deserved what they got."

Harry's eyes went wide. He had seen exactly what had happened to the Dursleys and he had to disagree with Sirius fully. Nobody, not even his relatives deserved to have died in such a state. Their bodies had been reduced to nothing but ash, so it was impossible for them to even be buried properly together. He winced at the thought of his aunts pale face, staring lifeless up at the ceiling and he bit his lip to stop a sob.

"Sirius, they were still people, people Harry saw die." Remus said. "Do you understand what this might to do his subconscious - to the state he's in right now? If you thought he was troubled before, well lets just say things got twice as worse."

Harry scowled for a moment. What did they think he was, a crazed child?

"It is really a horrible situation," Said the unfamiliar woman again. "What did the Ministry have to say about this? Are they accepting Voldemort's return now?"

He heard a growl and a deep sigh. "No." Kingsley answered out of them. "They said, not even with the Dark Mark that they hadn't had enough proof." Kingsley, even with his soft monotonous tone he usually carried, sounded bitter and angry at these words. "First they tried to blame the whole event on Harry, or at least Fudge did, but when it was confirmed by several sources, myself included that Harry was not in the house and had an alibi, Fudge concluded that it had to have been you Sirius."

"WHAT?" Sirius bellowed and Harry's eyes widened in horror.

"Shh! You'll wake Harry!" Tonks hissed to him. "Fudge is just trying to cover up the fact that there was a real Death Eater attack! He says that it was the work of a rogue Death Eater, most likely the work of the most wanted of them all, Sirius Black, escapee from Azkaban."

Harry leaned away from the door and stood up straight. His blood was boiling at the thought of the Ministries incompetence. How could they blame something so plainly from Voldemort on Sirius? The world just didn't seem to make sense. His godfather was blamed for his relatives death, and Harry was feeling sadness at the thought they weren't dead. Harry wasn't supposed to be sad, he was supposed to feel relieved about this. But for some reason, he couldn't.

* * *

Harry woke up very late the next morning, so late in fact that when he came downstairs, Remus was making lunch. He looked up and gave Harry a half smile as he entered the kitchen, which Harry plainly ignored and sat down at the table. No words were exchanged as Remus allowed Harry to be in silence for a while. In the corner of his eye he watched as Remus went over to a cupboard and took out three potions, poured them in separate goblets and placed them in front of Harry.

"What are they?" Harry said, realizing his voice was very raspy and quiet. He saw Remus fidget as he took a plate of sandwiches and a pitcher of pumpkin juice and place it on the table.

"Potions that Professor Snape told us to give you when you woke up." He said simply and placed a sandwich on Harry's plate. "One is for your throat, that's the brownish looking one, and another, the blue one is for your concussion and the other is a muscle relaxant, which is the vibrant purplish one. I'd suggest drinking some of that pumpkin juice afterwards unless you want the taste in your mouth all day."

Harry grimaced. Potions in general tasted rather badly, and even after the wide variety Harry had experienced all his life, the taste he knew was never going to get any better. He took the purple one first and didn't dare look at it for much longer. The smell alone made him want to gag, but he took a deep breath and downed it, grimacing the entire time. Remus chuckled and Harry threw him a dark look. He downed the other two just as quickly and dived into his pumpkin juice, earning a very amused smile from Remus.

"Do you feel any better?" Remus asked, the smile slipping off his face as he said this. Harry nodded.

"I still have a headache but that's to be expected, I guess." Harry whispered, realizing his throat didn't spark in pain anymore every time he talked. "How did I get a concussion?"

Remus looked uncomfortable for a minute before he answered. "When you were having your vision last night you were thrashing around so badly that you hit your head pretty hard off the wall."

Harry nodded and looked down at his untouched sandwich. More to have something to do than the fact that he was hungry, he took a bite and stared down solemnly at his plate. Upon hearing footsteps on the stairs he tensed. He had memorized the footfalls of every person who stayed in the house. The heavy shuffling he was hearing now belong to Sirius no doubt and he was the last person Harry wanted to face right now. Only because he knew that Sirius would question him.

Sure enough when he entered the kitchen, he spotted Harry and the questions started to fly. He wanted to know how he was feeling, if he had taken any potions, if he wanted to talk and said then all so quickly Harry didn't even dare try and get a word in edgewise. He turned and looked at Remus with his mouth slightly agape.

Remus took out his wand and put a silencing charm on the man. "Enough with the twenty questions," He said and then hastily removed it after the venomous glare he was receiving. "This is not the way to do this."

Sirius sighed and looked at Harry. "I'm sorry." He said. "I'm just worried about you." He wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders but Harry instinctively twisted away and Sirius's arm fell. Harry cheeks burnt and he quickly looked away.

"I think it's time we've had a long overdue talk." Remus said suddenly. Harry quickly turned and looked at him. "You can't avoid this, and it's easier to say it now than keep putting it off."

"I don't want to talk." Harry said quickly. He stood up from the table. "I'm going to go find Tonks."

"Tonks is at work." Remus said and Harry paused. "As is Kingsley. They had to go in early to deal with what happened last night and are working late. Which means, its ample time for the three of us to sit down and have a long uninterrupted talk."

Harry glanced over at the door and wished that Sirius had not gotten up to block it. There were no other escape routes out of the kitchen, unless he turned and hauled himself into the pantry, but that led to a dead end and didn't have any doors to close it off. He was stuck, and he was pretty sure that this time, there wasn't going to be a way to get out of it. He wished he knew where Sirius kept the floo powder.

"Please." Harry begged, looking at Sirius straight in the face. "Please don't make me."

Sirius looked for a moment as if he was about to back away from the door, but he blinked and held firm. "I'm sorry Harry, but this is never going to go away if we don't talk."

"There isn't anything to talk about!" Harry said wildly, his throat starting to protest at his yelling.

"That's a lie, Harry, and you know it." Sirius said. He turned and closed the kitchen door, locking it. "Sit down."

Remus banished the forgotten lunch in front of them, and Harry almost wished he hadn't. At least if he was eating he'd have an excuse to stay silent, but now there was none. Slowly, he sat down in a chair staring at the table. _I wish I could disappear_, he thought as the two sets of eyes pierced on him.

"I think its best if we start from the dream last night and backtrack." Remus said. "First of all, why don't you tell us exactly what happened?"

Harry swallowed and hesitantly looked up. Without even realizing it, his mouth had opened and he started to talk from the very beginning to the very end. He found to his immense surprise, it hadn't been as hard as he thought. Sirius's comforting hand on his shoulder wasn't making him as uncomfortable as he thought and Remus holding his hand was welcomed. Maybe he could do this.

* * *

Authors Note: Finally we get down to the talk. I don't skip over it, it goes into detail the next chapter, it's a two part. I warned you all that the fluffiness was gone, didn't I? Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter by the way! And also I got bored so I created another story and I've posted it. It's called _Through the Sands of Time_ and it's very enjoyable, I've been told. So review this story and then go read that story and review that too.

In search for a Beta for either stories, any takers? E-mail me or tell me in a review please.


	7. Talking it Out, Part II

Standing Beside the Fallen

Chapter Seven - Talking it Out, Part II

Recalling his dream had taken more than ten minutes, considering he kept pausing for breath or to collect himself. Sirius and Remus were patient, allowing him to take as much time in pausing as he needed, both showing their support as much as Harry was comfortable with. When he managed to finish, his throat was aching. Remus must have noticed because the next second there was a glass of water in front of him. He smiled and took a long sip, trying to stall the conversation as long as he could. It didn't work as well as he hoped.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, kiddo," Sirius said and allowed Harry to lean into him and soak up the comfort. He was still tense, but at least he wasn't flinching away.

"Harry, I know it was hard having to see what you did." Remus said. "But exactly how do you feel about it? Are you sad? Angry?"

That was a good question - how did he feel? Of course he was angry at Voldemort for murdering them, not even they deserved to die like that, nobody did. He felt guilty that because of the trouble he had attracted, it had gotten them all killed. If Voldemort hadn't been looking for him, the Dursleys would not have been targeted and they would have gone on leading their perfectly normal lives. But beside the guilt, he felt this overwhelming feeling to get up and throw something at the wall, something heavy that would leave a big dent.

Remus seemed to be reading his mind because he said the next moment, "It's alright to feel upset that they died."

Harry stood up quickly and started to pace the kitchen. "I'm not supposed to be upset!" He said wildly, tugging at his wild hair. "I'm supposed to be glad! I'm supposed to be relieved! But I'm not! Can you imagine what its like to know that you're the reason your family died? And they didn't even want me! They were forced into my world with my chaotic problems, they didn't choose it! So it is my fault that they died! It has to be!"

"It isn't!" Sirius yelled, jumping up from the table. Harry stopped his pacing and wheeled around.

"How do you know," Harry yelled, tears falling from his eyes.

His voice was cracking as he screamed, and his hands were balled up so tightly that his palms were nearly drawing blood, but he didn't care. He felt like he wanted to rip Sirius's head off at this moment and yell in his ear to make him understand. Because he didn't, and he doubted no matter how much he screamed, yelled and cried, that Sirius would ever understand.

The dishes on the table rattled and the objects in the room started to shake. Harry wanted to lash out on his suppressed rage, to go up and hit Sirius to make him understand. He didn't notice the alarmed look that Remus was giving him as he looked around at the shaking objects, he didn't notice much of anything. His only focus was glaring at Sirius as hard as he could manage.

"My aunt and uncle never wanted me! They were willing to ditch me in an alley if they could, but they were forced to keep me! If I hadn't been living there, Voldemort would have had no reason to kill them! He wouldn't have gone there and they would still be alive! It was because of me Voldemort went there, and killed them! It was my fault and you can't understand that!"

Sirius growled in frustration, yelling as loud as Harry. Harry stilled and looked at him, surprised by this. "Yes I can understand that!" He snarled. "You think I didn't feel guilt when I let Pettigrew be the secret keeper? You think I didn't feel guilty that your parents died or you ended up in that house in the first place?"

Harry had backed up into the wall now, his eyes wide with shock and regret. His anger was gone, and everything in the room was still again, but Sirius's anger seemed to be one that rivaled Harry's. Remus quickly got up from his seat and went over to Sirius to pull him away from the argument, but Sirius tore his arm away, too angry to see sense and too angry to see the shock and fear written plainly in Harry's face. Instead of backing off, Sirius kept going.

"You think I don't feel guilty that my best friend and his wife are dead because of my stupid decision or that Wormtail got away because I couldn't kill him properly? Yes Harry, I think I understand perfectly what the hell guilt is and god knows that I feel it each and every day so don't you dare lecture me on it! Understand?"

Harry stood against the wall, his back pressed against the wooden panels as he gave a quick nod. He stared up at Sirius, his eyes looking owlish and puffy red behind his round glasses, tears running down his cheeks. In that moment as Sirius stared at his godson, he could see exactly the shell that Harry had dug himself into. He remembered back to when he was fifteen, to how he and James had prided themselves in their height and muscles and being able to sneak into the bars to drink. It was plain to see that Harry was nothing like his father.

The boy had been broken down, and it was plain to see in front of his eyes. Sirius wondered how he could not have pinpointed it before. Sure he had known Harry was in pain, that he was suffering, but he never realized exactly how until that very moment. As he stared, he didn't see the replica of his father he once had back in the Shrieking Shack two years ago. Now he saw the child that Harry really was, the small skinny and beaten boy who thrived for caring and understanding. He realized, that he had been giving Harry the exact opposite of what he needed. He understood that Harry needed a father figure, and Harry was looking at him to fill in.

"Harry . . ." He said quietly, taking a step back in horror. Sirius watched as Harry bit his lip breathing hard, his eyes flashing over to the door before he made a decision. He turned and ran to it, wrenching it open and running up the stairs, slamming it behind him and disappearing. They listened in a still silence as Harry's footsteps echoed through the silent house and then the distinct sounds of a distance door slam brought them from their reveries.

Sirius turned and gripped the countertop hard, his knuckles turning white. This was not how it was supposed to be. Harry was not supposed to run away hurt and afraid, he was supposed to have opened up to him. And yet Sirius had failed, just like he always had in the past. He had failed to keep Harry safe, and failed to protect him from the demons that haunted him constantly. He was failing in his promise to Lily and James that he had made so many years ago to protect their son if something were to happen to them.

In a bought of sudden anger, he grabbed a glass from the drainer and turned, hurling it against the wall. It smashed into a thousand pieces, falling and littering the floor with small bits of glass. Upstairs, he could hear his mother's portrait starting to scream and he felt the need to go up there and curse her until the paint on the portrait was in pools at his feet. But he knew that wouldn't get rid of her. It never did before.

"Sirius,"

Sirius turned to face Remus, and noticed the hard look on his face. It had always made him feel a little intimidated when he was on the receiving end of a glare, but right now he was too angry at himself to feel intimidated. It didn't stop Remus from glaring at him though.

"Before you try and get Harry to get over his guilt and pain, you should get over your's first." Remus said only loud enough to hear over his mother's wails. "And you better do it quick, because you won't be seeing Harry much until you do."

* * *

Harry closed his door hard and gripped the doorknob to try and suppress the ripping emotion overtaking his body. He didn't notice the sounds of something breaking downstairs, and not even heard the screeches of Sirius's mum. His teeth were bared and his eyes were screwed shut. He wasn't sure exactly what he was feeling. Fear, yes. Anger, yes. Guilt, yes. It was just a huge puddle of emotions that he was sinking in, desperately trying to grab onto solid land, but he wasn't getting anywhere.

And suddenly, the emotions drained from him, and all he felt was a sense of numb exhaustion. It was a relief really, to what he had been feeling earlier and he slowly let go of the doorknob and sunk down in the armchair beside the window. He stared outside in the bright sunshine, feeling nothing but numb. It was a hollow feeling yes, but it was definitely better than the overwhelming pain he had been feeling just moments ago. He didn't know how long he looked out the window, but his mind seemed as numb as his body. He felt too exhausted to move, too tired to get up and move yet too tired to sleep. It was weird to know that you were too tired to actually sleep. It was a weird oxymoron, and yet there it was.

He stared through the window, watching as a car passed by on the street and a dog sniffed around a few houses over. He wondered how life could be so normal and so peaceful when there was actually no peace to be had. Voldemort was gaining strength. people were dying at his hands, and he was suffering with the overwhelming guilt. And yet the world still had time for kids to go get ice cream and people to head off to work in their usual morning routines. It was weird how the biggest things in the life of one person could not even affect another. But that was just how life was.

He watched as a group of kids walked down the street, one of them holding a football in his hands. He remembered back when he had been eight or nine, around the age of these kids. He remembered how much he had wanted to be just like them, to be carefree and to have friends to play sports with down at the park, and not having to worry about getting his chores finished before his uncle got home. He had been unlike most children because of his aunt and uncle.

And yet it dawned on him, as he sat and remembered how different he actually had been. Dudley had not been a freak or weird because his mother and father allowed him to be normal. And yet, they never allowed Harry to have a normal childhood and therefore he never really knew what nomal was. Had it been the Dursleys fault that he was not normal, or had he just been born like that in the first place?

He remembered when he had been a small child, around the ages of six or seven, he had owned the imagination the size of Russia. His biggest chunk of imagination made him dream of himself finding a rowboat on the shoreline and rowing miles and miles off of England and to an Island where it was sunny and beautiful everyday. It was a place that never rained, and it was never too cold or too hot. There was only sand and no grass, because grass was too much of a bother to cut.

On the island there were people, but it was only for people that were not normal, people who had been like him. These people lived in huts that were small and dark, but everybody liked that, and they had big beautiful backyards. Everyone ate bananas and coconuts all day and nobody was fat. They also ate chocolate cake. They had to eat chocolate cake everyday because Harry loved chocolate cake and never got to have any because it always went to Dudley. So there was always chocolate cake available on the island. There were television sets and toys, and he was allowed to use all of it.

Everybody on this island considered each other family. Nobody judged you by how un-normal you were, or how different or ugly you looked. In fact, the more weird you seemed, they made you the president of the island. Being too young to vote or even cross the street by himself, he imagined himself too young to be the president of the island so he was the junior president. He got to live in the biggest hut on the island with the weird president and they ate bananas and coconuts and chocolate cake all day long and played games. Because Harry was never allowed to play, so there was always time to play on the island. And nobody ever had to do chores, because there were never any chores to be done. Food was there waiting for you to eat it and left when you finished eating it. The huts never needed to be clean because they always were and not a finger was lifted for a chore.

In first grade he wrote a story about his island for a creative writing assignment. He had handed it in to his teacher Ms. Covey, and Ms. Covey had absolutely loved it. She had loved it so much that she had brought his aunt and uncle in to show him the story and tell them how good he was at writing and what a beautiful imagination he had. Harry knew, because Uncle Vernon had relayed everything to him later that night in enough detail that he would remember it forever. He would remember because that had been the night that his imagination died. Died with his sense of childhood, and from then and there he had been an adult, and no longer did he have that imagination that Ms. Covey adored.

He had gotten a really bad beating after that and had been absent for school for two days to heal and took up the weekend before he could go back and act normal. After that he had never dared to write an assignment that was better than a C. Thinking back, he wondered why having an active imagination made him different. A lot of people had one. Every child had one, authors had them, artists and musicians. Why did he have to have his beaten out of him? Why had they made him different? Had it been because Dudley was too lazy to use his own, and Harry could not be better than Dudley at anything? Or was it because they thought his imagination was somehow linked with magic? He would never know now, because they were dead, and couldn't answer his question.

He blinked and suddenly turned his head away from the window. Sitting here and thinking back on his horrible childhood, questioning his aspects, was doing nothing to help him get over whatever he was going through. Sirius and Remus seemed to think he was going through something, and before he had experienced this numb exhaustion he would have agreed. But now there was nothing to feel, nothing to go through. Everything was so confusing, why couldn't his worst childhood memory be the time when his hamster died or something? That's right, because Dudley got the hamster, and he sat on it. The hamster had died under his bulk . . . poor Wiggles, such a terrible way to die.

Harry sighed and sat up from his chair, his legs feeling like rubber, but he ignored it. He glanced up at the clock and saw it was half past noon. He wasn't really sure how long he had barricade himself in his room, but he was pretty glad that nobody had come knocking on the door, asking him if he wanted to talk, because he didn't. Talking just led to more bad memories, something which he had spent too long trying to ignore.

Sitting in this room was not helping to keep the bad memories at bay either, and he felt the need to leave. The air was suddenly too thin and the room too small. He had never been claustrophobic and anybody growing up in a cupboard most likely wouldn't be unless they had horrible memories with it. Harry didn't. His cupboard had been the safe haven, and basically he was rather fond of small dark places. Not that he hauled himself into them a lot, because he liked the open too. His love of Quidditch demonstration that.

He walked over to the door and cracked it open a little bit and peaked out. The hallway was empty and he let out a breath of relief. Being after twelve, there was a chance that Tonks had come over for lunch, or was in her bedroom going over notes during a break or something. Tonks was someone he was comfortable with and knew would not talk about his abuse unless he wanted to, so she was like a cupboard to him, a safe haven. He walked out of the room and closed the door quietly, heading down the hall.

The house seemed almost too quiet for him. Even though he was used to the quiet, and Grimmauld Place was either silent and still or buzzing with quiet chaos, he had grown used to it even after being here such a short time. But now it just seemed too quiet. The house wasn't settling, there was no radio going off from Tonks or Sirius's room, no sounds of shuffling people down the hall, or even the mutters of Kreacher the deranged house-elf. It was so quiet he could hear himself breathing. As he passed by a door, a sudden quiet rattling startled him and he looked at the closed door. Was somebody in there, or was Kreacher trying to steal something again?

Harry entered the drawing room and looked around. The walls still smelled like paint, and specks of purple and blue were still drying on the floor and walls like they had been yesterday too. Despite their giant paint fight, the walls had somehow finished orderly, whether it had been manually or magically Harry didn't know. All he did know was that a rattling sound had drawn Harry into the room and from curiosity he wanted to see what it was.

By now Harry had found himself rather acquainted with the Black house, and knew that if you see or hear anything strange, not to go near it because there is a seventy seven percent chance that whatever it is highly dangerous. Nevertheless, Harry still had that young childlike curiosity going on him, and didn't even think about the risk as he entered the room and looked four the source of the rattling sound. His uncle might have managed to take away his imagination, but his curiosity was well intact. The noises sounded again and Harry turned to see that It was coming from the far corner where a wardrobe that was currently covered with a paint streaked sheet on top of it. The wardrobe reminded Harry of something a few years ago. A rattling wardrobe, Remus teaching in class, Snape in a dress. . .

"Remus!" Harry called as he backed away from the wardrobe. He didn't fancy it shooting out and turning it into a dementor, or worse: His uncle. He headed to the door and called Remus again. He had just reached the door when it shut on its own and Harry heard the faint click of a lock. He heard a small gale of cackling laughter on the other side and soft pattering feet. He turned the doorknob and found it locked.

Upon hearing a crash behind him, Harry turned around quickly and the torches on the wall went out, leaving him in a completely dark room. His breath was quickening and he turned and started to hammer on the door. He knew the boggart was loose out of the wardrobe, and he shut his eyes, hoping that the old childlike logic would pull through: If he couldn't see it, it couldn't see him.

"Remus! Sirius! Somebody, let me out! Help!" He shouted. He heard someone maybe two floors down calling his name, and he was about to desperately call back, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Harry froze with his eyes wide in terror as the hand gripped like a vice, and spun him on the spot. Harry's wide eyes traveled up and he found himself staring into the face of his Uncle Vernon.

Harry screamed, and tried to wriggle out of the gasp but the boggart Uncle Vernon would let go of him. He turned and pinned him down onto the floor, his knee digging into Harry's ribs. Harry was still screaming but Vernon placed a thick hand onto his mouth.

"No point in screaming, boy, nobody is going to come. Everybody hates your sorry ass and doesn't care about you. They only like the boy-who-lived, who isn't even that great in the first place. Can't even stand up to a muggle like me, can you? You're going to pay for what you did to your friends and family and making them suffer, and you are going to pay now! You will pay for killing me and killing my family!"

Harry closed his eyes and waited for the blow as he quickly threw his hands over his head to protect it and started to scream in fear, his mind in such a panic that he didn't hear the door crash open and Sirius's screams while Remus yelled, "_Riddikulus_," and the weight on top of him vanished. When it did, Harry curled into a ball, unbeknownst that the boggart that had turned into Uncle Vernon was now in front of Sirius, and unknown that there seemed to be double Harry in the room, one panicked on the floor, the other dead. Remus quickly got rid of the boggart and Sirius rushed to Harry's side.

"Harry! It's alright, it was a boggart, it's not real." Sirius said grabbing his arms and bringing them off of his face. Harry yelled and started to struggle away, but Sirius held him into place. "Harry open your eyes!" He said it in such a commanding way that Harry opened them out of fear and stopped struggling the moment he saw Sirius sitting beside him. A sudden wave of relief hit him and he went limp.

"S-sirius?" He gasped. Sirius let go of his hands and drew Harry into a bone crushing hug. Harry returned it quickly, his need for comfort overtaking his embarrassment. He felt his eyes becoming glassy and he quickly blinked the tears away. He couldn't cry, he had told himself earlier that he wouldn't. Crying was a weakness, and he was already weak enough to begin with. The boggart was right, he was too weak to stand up to his muggle uncle, and even weaker when he couldn't even face that boggart. He couldn't stop the tears falling, and he stopped trying.

"I'm so sorry Harry." Tonks said crouching down beside them. "Remus told me to check the room for any dark objects - I just can't believe I didn't find that boggart, it's all my fault."

Harry loosened himself in Sirius's embrace enough so that he could turn and face Tonks, his head resting on Sirius's chest slightly. He felt drained, like all of his energy had been sucked away with a vacuum. It wasn't like the exhaustion he had felt earlier, because this time there was no numbness to clog the pain. It had come back with a vengeance and gripped at his heart mercilessly, twice as worse than before.

"Tonks it's not your fault." Harry said quietly. "I heard the rattling and came inside to see what it was. That was my first mistake. When I realized it was a Boggart I called for Remus to come help and tried to leave, but I was locked inside the room." He paused, deciding whether he should tell the room or not that it had actually been Kreacher who had locked him in the room and decided against it. If Sirius knew, he would go ballistic and Kreacher would probably end up with his head on the wall. As much as he didn't like that low life elf, he decided that even he didn't deserve death. After all it was only a boggart, a boggart couldn't physically harm him, just mentally.

"How did you get locked inside?" Remus asked.

_Damn it_, he thought. _That man is still way too nosy for his own good_.

Harry shrugged and played dumb. "I don't know, one minute it was open and the next it was closed and locked. I tried to get out but by then U-uncle Vern - er - it - had me cornered."

Sirius had decreased his grip on Harry a little bit, but was still holding him as though he was afraid the boy might break. Harry didn't mind this, it was calming him down greatly to the point where his heart was nearly back to a normal weight. True, the room still felt way too hot for his liking, but hey, it was better than having a panic attack.

"It wasn't real." Sirius whispered. Harry nodded, knowing that his uncle may not have been real, but his echoing words were. "Harry, I am so sorry for what I said this morning in the kitchen. I really didn't mean to upset you, I just wanted to make you understand."

Harry pulled away and looked up at him curiously. "Understand what?'

"Understand that not everything is in your control. I wanted you to relate your situation with what I had gone through. I had blamed myself for your parent's death for so long before I realized that I wasn't the one who killed them. I didn't spill the secret to Voldemort and I didn't pick up a wand and hurt them. I had no way of knowing what was going to happen, no control over the situation. It wasn't my fault. Just like you couldn't control Voldemort going after your relatives, and you couldn't control whether they died or not."

"But he went there looking for me." Harry whispered and allowed himself to be held in Sirius's tight embrace.

"Yes, but there was no way you could have known. Nothing you could have done to stop it. You need to understand that some things happen for a reason, and these things you can't control. It's a part of life, kiddo."

"It's just like how you couldn't control the way your relatives thought about you." Remus said quietly, sitting on the floor beside the pair. "They had a biased opinion of magic, mainly because they didn't understand. It wasn't your fault that they abused you, Harry. You did nothing to start it. It was their lack of understand and their fear of magic that drove them to violence. They didn't know anything about magic, or what you could do with it. So they tried to get control over you with violence. It wasn't anything you did."

"But it still hurts." Harry answered quietly. "Why couldn't they just have made it simple and loved me for who I was? They loved Dudley and he wasn't anywhere near perfect."

"That's because they pictured Dudley as the perfect son. They birthed him and raised him to be perfect. You came to them on a doorstep, and they were told you possessed magic." Remus said. "They were worried that their perfect lives were tainted with something they viewed with abnormal. They tried to take anything that seemed wrong, or in their minds weird or freakish," Harry winced at this word. "And turn it into something that needed to be punished."

"They didn't hate you Harry." Tonks suddenly said. "Nobody could hate you. They didn't like what they thought you were, because even if you lived with them for fourteen years, they didn't know you at all."

There was a silence as Harry processed this information. It made sense, and the Dursleys did seem the type to act out from fear with violence. Perhaps Sirius and Remus were right after all. He nodded, his head against Sirius's chest again. The Dursleys had always been prejudice, whether it was of magic or of a neighbor who weren't as rich as they were. They thought of themselves as superior, and it was something Harry had always hated, because no matter how much they tried or believed themselves to be, the Dursley's were nowhere near superior.

"Here's what you should understand Harry." Sirius said, running his finger through the tangled locks. "When your mother and Aunt Petunia were younger they were as close as sisters could get. They had their fights yes, but they were around each other all the time. Then Petunia went to high school and sort of left Lily alone for a year when she got friends and got the spotlight of the family with her clubs, charities and things like that.

"Then Lily got her letter to Hogwarts. Petunia had been used to being in the spotlight, and now that she wasn't with a witch in the family, she grew jealous and a hatred of magic arose, and with it was the hatred of her sister. They grew distant and soon they didn't even talk to each other anymore. That's where it started. Ever since then it seemed to build up, and then she met Vernon, who shared her views and had even more hatred of it than Petunia if that was possible."

"But I don't understand." Harry said. "If Professor Dumbledore knew that I was going to a family that hated magic, then why did he let me? I mean, I understand the protection but couldn't he have found a different protection with someone who didn't hate me?"

Sirius and Remus shared a look.

"We don't know why Dumbledore chose what he did, but I can assure you this." Remus said looking him in the eye. "If Dumbledore knew what was going on, he would never have left you there. He thought it was for the best, and he was wrong. He does care for you Harry, and he knew that life with them was going to be hard. How hard exactly, even he didn't know. Despite what everyone says, Dumbledore doesn't know everything."

Harry nodded and brought his legs up to his chest, breathing in deeply. He had always thought of Dumbledore as the man who knew everything and could fix everything. This, of all things, was something he overlooked, and was something he could not fixed. He sighed, the smell of paint was strong and making him lightheaded, but he hardly noticed.

"I know that he's gone." Harry whispered. "I know that he can't hurt me, but I'm still scared. I don't know why, but I am. I'm scared of him . . . but I'm also sorry he's dead."

"That's normal, Harry." Tonks said, scooting over next to him and hugging him awkwardly, though brief enough to give him some space. "It's alright for you to feel sorry for his death, but it's also okay to be angry with him. And no matter what, no matter how much your scared, Remus Sirius and I would never let anything like that happen to you again. We promise, as your family to do everything we can to help you and love you, and no matter what you think we'd never be disappointed in you or hate you for any reason."

Harry looked at the floor.

"She's right." Sirius said. "We will never turn our backs on you or hurt you in any way. We absolutely promise."

Harry looked up at Sirius and smiled. The pain that had been gripping his heart was starting to fade. It was still there, and it would probably be there for a very long time, haunting him. He knew that it was going to take a long time for him to get over everything, but he felt like now he was ready to face it all. Knowing that Sirius Remus and Tonks thought of him as family, ones he could turn to when he needed them, it was enough to help some of it go away. He didn't have to face any of this alone, and it made it easier.

Maybe life didn't have to be so complicated after all.

* * *

Authors Note: If you seem to notice an alter in my writing style (there may be or not) its not my fault. Never again will I write an entire chapter after I read 60 pages of an abuse story, it alters my perspective, but I wanted to finish this and I also wanted to read . . . sigh . . . I love weekends. Not only do I update, but school isn't in session! On a totally unrelated topic and even though this has no relevance to you, I wanted to announce that I got my license on Monday. I was happy for a total of 3 seconds. Then I realized I don't have a car and my mom won't let me drive with my friends, oh well. Anyways enough about my life and my depressive mood, thank you for reviewing, please continue to do so, beta position is opened if you want to do it while I review some applicants, just send me an e-mail. Review please and keep reading too!

BlondxCrayon


	8. The Double Act Theorum

Standing Beside the Fallen

Chapter Eight - The Double Act Theorem

There were not many things in life that shocked Severus Snape, but when it came to the Dark Lord, everything was shocking. Severus had known how horrible and merciless Voldemort was after having experienced his ranks so many years ago, and he had come to expect his satisfaction when it came down to murder and devastation. He had also come to know Voldemort's temper, and what happened when the man had become angry or in this case, didn't get what he wanted.

So when Voldemort had entered the lair full of followers waiting for instructions, and started to curse randomly through the ranks, Severus wasn't that surprised. There were only a few things in the world that could put Voldemort in such a bad mood and after experiencing the catastrophe that had happened at Privet Drive, and Voldemort's anger afterwards, Severus didn't need a hint to know why his master was in such a bad mood. He had been in a foul one for the past few days, but it hadn't exactly been bad enough that he would just willingly curse all of his followers. This was definitely Severus's least favorite part of the meetings.

This was also why he wasn't surprised to find himself curled on the ground screaming after being hit with a stray Cruciatus Curse that he had been too slow to dodge. Not that he dared dodge a curse sent his way by the Dark Lord, because he knew that if he tried, he would end up with fifty curses placed specifically on him for trying it. It hurt like hell, yes, his bones crushing into ash and his organs being thrown into an incinerator, but he wasn't surprised by the pain. Like he had said, not many things shocked the man, but he still got the occasional surprise every once and a while.

And the proceedings were something that he could say had truly shocked him.

Ever since Voldemort had risen back to power, there had been a barrier between himself and the Dark Lord. The inner circle, which was the closest and most trustworthy of the Death Eater ranks had been formed once again, but unlike last time, Severus wasn't in it. He had suspected that the Dark Lord thought him be a spy for the Light, to be playing a double act opposite of what Voldemort thought him to be doing. His job for Voldemort was spying on Dumbledore, plain and simple. And his job for Dumbledore was spying on Voldemort.

Voldemort had trusted him enough for Severus to attend to the attack in Little Whinging, which was why Severus had come out with two days' worth of aching bones. But he had come to learn that pain was part of being a Death Eater, and so were the rewards that came with it when you served well.

As the curse on Severus died, he forced himself onto his back and stood up, trying not to sway and show the weakness that the curse had left. He stood straight in the circle, waiting for the remaining Death Eaters to stop screaming so that Voldemort would say what he wanted to say, and they could be on their way. That, Severus was sure, was what every one of his companions were thinking at the moment, all afraid that Voldemort would get a tick in his side and start attacking all over again.

Thankfully, soon the screaming had died and the circle was reformed once again.

"My Death Eaters," Voldemort hissed, pacing the circle. "I have waited rather patiently these past years for my ultimate glory to rise. At first I believed it to be fourteen years ago when I first aimed a wand at Harry Potter. And of course, as we all know, my glory was stolen from me that night. For years I have persisted, and as my recent attempt have failed several days ago, so I am starting anew."

Voldemort paced the ranks, looking at each and every Death Eater who stood before him. It wasn't until he paced twice and stopped right in front of Snape that he started to speak again, a malicious grin on his pale and ugly face.

"There is one person I want to bring Harry Potter to me. One person who I know has access to him, and one person I am willing to ask to sacrifice his double-agent act to bring that boy here with me. Isn't that right, Severus?"

Severus bowed to Voldemort. "Yes, master," he said clearly.

"And Severus, I should tell you," Voldemort sneered, "that this duty is one you should not take lightly. When you bring Potter to me, and of course I expect to have him by the end of the week, then you will be looked upon in the highest regard. Such a high regard, perhaps, as to be considered my closest follower."

The chamber was deathly silent as all gazes turned on Lord Voldemort and Severus Snape. Most followers were looking on in hard anger, as the glory that they so wanted was given to another. Others were looking on with skepticism, obviously not believing that Severus would give up his role as Dumbledore's lapdog.

Severus, however, ignored them all as he got down onto his knees and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes.

"Yes, Master," he replied. "I will bring Harry Potter to you by any means."

"Good," Voldemort hissed. "Because I have big plans for Harry Potter and I intend to destroy him. I don't need a prophecy to know what the boy's weaknesses are." He gave a hard and cruel laugh.

* * *

Meanwhile, back in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, things were not as tense. It had been three days since the boggart incident and since then, the mood inside the house had improved greatly. Harry was amazed at how much talking things over with Sirius, Remus, and Tonks helped him. They had spent hours with each other that night, and Harry felt more comfortable in talking than he had in his entire life. It was difficult, yes, but he still managed to talk about his abuse and exactly what his uncle had done to him. It had been an emotionally trying night, and Harry was exhausted. That night he still had one of his regular nightmares, but the usual despair that lingered afterwards hadn't lasted long and he was able to get back to sleep quicker than usual, feeling safe with the knowledge that Sirius was curled at his feet in his animagus form.

The rest of the week passed rather smoothly with Harry spending a lot of time with Sirius, Remus, and Tonks. With Sirius, it was spent redecorating or cleaning out the house while he told stories and talked about current events like Quidditch and the Ministry. The remainder of the time was also spent talking about what Sirius would do once he was free. One thing Harry really liked about Sirius was his optimistic attitude towards the world. Sirius was just the type of person that either had to look on the bright side, or just didn't care at all.

Spending time with Remus and Tonks was different. With Remus, they usually ended up cooking, which Harry found to be rather relaxing when it didn't come to having it judged by the Dursleys. With Remus, there was a lot less stress involved, and he actually found cooking to be fun. Remus had told him that cooking was something he always did when he was stressed or upset, and Harry felt honored that Remus had wanted to share it with him. They talked about recipes and where Remus had found certain ones for desserts and dishes. They also discussed school and defense in particular and Harry's goals of wanting to become an Auror when he got older.

Unlike Remus and Sirius, Tonks was more abstract in their conversations, ranged from Aurors she worked with to Harry's love life, all the way down to how they got almonds in the middle of a Hershey's Kiss. With Tonks, Harry found that he was never bored, and there was always something memorable when they hung out.

Currently, Harry, Sirius, and Tonks were in the dining room on the first floor, cleaning up all of the dirt and despair that had built up during a decade of neglect. Over the past few months, the Order had been growing and now the kitchen was just too small and cramped to fit everybody, so they needed a bigger space. The Dining Room was the largest room in the house, other than the attic, and it could fit everybody easily. Now all they had to do was get it habitable for everyone to use before the next Order meeting, which happened to be that night.

According to Sirius, the meeting had been unexpected. Apparently, before he had woken up, Dumbledore had come by and told them that he scheduled a meeting for that night and needed the dining room ready. He hadn't mentioned exactly why, but Harry was sure even if he did, Sirius would have been forbidden to tell him. Harry didn't mind the whole leaving him out of the Order business thing, because he figured that there were just some things he was better off not knowing.

Harry's train of thought died when he opened the drawer of the dresser and something black and large as a saucer scuttled out of it and onto the floor, followed by another, and another. Harry yelled and jumped back as he watched the spiders try to crawl under the rug with little success.

"Wow! That thing is huge!" Tonks said excitedly as she grabbed a broom and started to swat at the spider. "Come on Harry, help me, its pretty fun!"

"You find killing a spider as large as my hand fun?" Sirius said, watching with raised eyebrows as Tonks and Harry swatted the spider with brooms, laughing hysterically. "You know if I didn't know you, I'd say that's hatred of animals right there."

"A spider isn't an animal," Tonks said indignantly as she stood up straight and looked at him. "And besides, I was a vegetarian right up until after I left Hogwarts!"

"What made you eat meat again?" Harry asked as they swept the dead spiders into a trashbag and threw it in the corner with the others.

"Auror training," she said. "You try twelve hours of cardio living off nothing but salads and spaghetti. You won't survive the first three days. It just doesn't give you the proper energy that meat does. And personally, I find it doesn't taste as good either."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," said a voice at the door. Everyone turned and saw Remus entering with a tray in his hands. "Because I've got some turkey sandwiches here that I would hate to see go to waste."

Harry sat down in a chair that was already washed and cleaned and started on a sandwich. They sat and ate for a little while before starting on the cleaning again. This time around, Remus pitched in as well since he wasn't busy making lunch. It was then that Harry winced, feeling the scar on his forehead light up in pain as though somebody had set off a flare. He tried to keep a neutral face over it, but it burned angrily. Finally, he stood up and headed for the door.

"You alright, Harry?" Remus called after him. Secretly, the man had been watching Harry from the corner of his eye and had seen the look of pain flashing on his face for the briefest of moments before the boy's barriers had been put into place.

"I'm just going to lay down for a while," he answered in a normal tone. "I have a little bit of a headache, but it's nothing to worry about."

He didn't know what Voldemort was up to or why, but all Harry knew was that Voldemort was happy. He didn't know how he knew this, but it felt sort of like a sixth sense. The thought unnerved him and sent a chill down his spine. How could he know what Voldemort was feeling? Was their connection getting stronger? Harry swallowed thickly as he entered his bedroom and slowly closed the door. He really hoped that the case.

He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes, concentrating. Behind his eyelids, he could see flashes of color, as though robed figures were moving, and random lights (mostly green) were flaring this way and that. But the moment he had seen it, it was gone, and he couldn't be sure whether it was his imagination or not. But he didn't think it was.

What was going on with him?

It was a little more than a half hour later that there was a knock on the door. Harry didn't answer, hoping that whoever it was would take the hint and think he was sleeping and leave him alone. Yet that did not seem to be the case, since a minute later the door creaked open and Remus stepped inside with a small smile on his face.

"Hey," Remus said entering the room. "I just wanted to check on you and see if you were alright. You left pretty suddenly."

"Sorry about that," Harry sighed. His scar had only acted up for about ten seconds, but the funny feeling in the pit of his stomach after feeling that odd detached bout of joy had stayed. He sat up completely and drew his legs up to his chest with a sigh.

"What's bothering you?"

Harry looked up at the man with a raised eyebrow. "How do you know something is bothering me?"

Remus chuckled. "Harry you don't exactly have the most neutral facial expressions. You wear your heart on your sleeve, so to speak." He smiled again at the annoyed scowl on Harry's face. "Now, what's bothering you? Does it have anything to do with your scar hurting earlier today?"

"How do you know about that?" Harry asked warily, but one look from Remus signaled his answer. "Right, heart on your sleeve thing."

"Is it still hurting?" Remus asked with concern, inspecting the scar on Harry's forehead.

Harry shook his head. "It stopped after a few seconds," Harry said softly. He took a deep breath and looked Remus in the eye. It was now or never to speak. "Something was different this time. My scar didn't only just hurt but . . . I felt happy. But it wasn't me who was feeling happy . . . I was feeling Voldemort being happy. And when I closed my eyes, I could see a flash of what was going on. It wasn't much, just a mix of colors. I thought I could see Voldemort cursing somebody."

Remus kept his face neutral, but to Harry it seemed he was looking at Harry with fear. He squirmed under the gaze and kept his eyes firmly on the bed.

"Harry, I'm sure that this isn't anything to worry about," Remus said in a such a light tone it surprised Harry. "If you'd like, I'll talk to it about Dumbledore after the meeting tonight. Merlin knows he is a little more educated on the subject of your scar than I am."

"I'd like that," Harry said with a fake smile, not feeling very reassured.

"There isn't any use worrying about it right now," Remus said. "Your scar isn't hurting anymore, and it does no good to drown yourself in worry. You'll get grey hairs doing that. Trust me, I know." Harry smiled softly. "Now do you want to come help us finish the dining room or should I tell everyone that you were sleeping?"

Harry shook his head. "I'll help finish, as long as I don't have to kill any more spiders."

Harry got to his feet and followed Remus out of the room. He was glad he had told the man about his worries because he had been right. There was no point worrying about it now. The feeling of happiness was gone now and his scar didn't hurt at all. He was still worried about how strong his and Voldemort's connection seemed to be becoming, but he couldn't force himself to worry about it now. Harry subdued these thoughts as he entered the dining room to help prepare for the meeting.

Luckily, Harry didn't notice the worried glances Remus kept shooting his way the entire afternoon.

* * *

The Order meeting had started around eight o' clock, and most of its members had arrived on time or earlier, sitting in chairs and talking quietly with their companions before the proceedings began. Remus himself was sitting in the middle of the room with Sirius on his left and Tonks on his right. Tonks was saying something to him, but he wasn't listening as his mind kept drifting back to Harry, who was upstairs in his room. Remus felt guilty for leaving him up there alone, but Harry had tried to reassure him that he would be fine.

But still, the thoughts of what had happened earlier that day were still irking him. Harry had said that Voldemort had felt happy. Did that mean that Voldemort was planning something? Were things going his way? Or was his usual torture of his followers enough to send such a vibe that Harry would receive it?

"Remus?" said a soft voice beside him. A hand jiggled in front of his vision and he looked up. Tonks was sitting there staring at him with a raised eyebrow. Her hair was the usual bubblegum pink that it had been for the past few days, and Remus found himself staring at it for a moment before he blinked and came back to himself.

"Sorry, what was that?" he asked, sitting up straight.

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Oh, nothing at all," she said sarcastically. "But, what's up with you? You've spaced out for at least three minutes."

Remus sighed and started to explain all about Harry's scar and feeling Voldemort's emotions and seeing flashes. As he talked, he couldn't help but think that maybe Tonks wasn't the right person to tell. Did she really care for Harry so much that she wouldn't be prejudiced against him for his scar? As soon as the thought came it was gone, especially while glancing at the woman's concerned face.

No, he told himself sternly. Tonks has seen Harry's scar dreams before and she still loves Harry. She won't hate him for it, she considers the kid her brother after all, stop trying to find the worst in her!

"Maybe Dumbledore knows a way for Harry to block this," Tonks said firmly. "There has to be a way."

Remus sighed again. "I hope so."

The Order meeting had ended after three long and grueling hours of boring reports and no suspicious updates. Out of all the three dozens members that had attended, there was only one missing from their ranks. Severus Snape had not been seen for two days. Dumbledore didn't seem too worried about Snape not being seen, because apparently it had happened before. So none of the members had really thought twice about it, except for Remus.

It wasn't that Remus was overly concerned whether Snape was hurt or not, it was the circumstances that had him worried. He waited until after the meeting when the members had started to file out, either heading down to the kitchen with Molly Weasley to have an after meeting snack or heading to the fireplaces or the door to head back home that he pulled Dumbledore aside. He also pulled Sirius, Tonks, and Kingsley aside with Dumbledore so they could hear what he had to say.

"This afternoon a few hours before the meeting, I noticed something odd about Harry," he began and Remus was sure everyone had gathered a new sense of keen interest. "Harry's scar was hurting him today, you remember when he left during lunch? He said that the pain lasted for only a few seconds, but he also mentioned that there was something different. He said that he could feel Voldemort being happy, and when he closed his eyes, he saw a flash of what was going on."

"He what?" Sirius asked, looking between Remus and Dumbledore. "Albus, what does that mean?"

"It means that now that Voldemort has risen to power once again, the connection will become more active than it has in the past. Harry's experiencing something where he is feeling Voldemort's emotions as well as the pain in the scar, whereas before it was just his scar. For Harry, this is normal."

"Is there connection getting stronger?" Kingsley asked slowly.

"Unfortunately, it is." Dumbledore sighed. "However I hope that Voldemort will not discover Harry's ability to see through his eyes very quickly. If he does, as you can guess, the action can be reversed."

Tonks gasped. "Do you mean that he can just see through Harry's eyes, or Harry can actually become possessed?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Both, Tonks."

"But surely there's some way that we can prevent that from happening," Sirius said frantically. "Albus, I'm not going to let that happen to my godson!"

"I would not let it happen to Harry either, Sirius," Dumbledore said patiently. "However, I don't think that Voldemort has discovered any of this yet, nor will he for a while -"

"But what if he does?" Sirius said loudly in anger. "You don't know that he won't! And yet you're sitting aside and letting it happen anyway!"

"I am not letting it happen," Dumbledore said sternly over the top of his glasses. There was a look in his eye that told everyone plainly not to fight with him, and everyone, including Sirius, wisely took this course of action.

"So what should I tell Harry?" Remus asked. "I told him I would talk to you after the meeting."

"The truth, but not the full truth," Dumbledore said. "Harry is still going through a difficult time and does not need the added stress. He's not ready for this kind of information."

The group talked for a few more minutes until they separated. Remus himself headed up to Harry's bedroom to talk with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He hated lying to Harry, which was what he felt like he was doing by not telling him the full truth of the situation, but also knew what Harry's reaction would be if he did tell him. He would most likely become so afraid he would withdraw into himself again, and that was the last thing he needed at the moment. Even though he hated to do it, he knew it was for the best.

* * *

Authors Note: Finding out some key information a little earlier than they did in the book, which should speed some things along and create some tension (hehe). I apologize profusely for the lateness of this chapter. I know many of you have stated you were suffering from withdrawal symptoms and I hate being a hypocrite because I know how that feels, but I'm doing the best I can. Severe writers block took part in this, as I'm sure many of you can relate to, but don't worry I'm (almost) back in the swing of things so to speak.

I'd like to know out of curiosity : What side do you think Snape is on in this story? Is he Voldemort's spy or Dumbledore's spy? You get the answer in the next chapter or two but its still fun to guess isn't it? Anywhoo, I send out the usual pleas for reviews, and I understand if you don't want to give them to me for lateness. But please review and tell me what you think! Thanks

A special thanks to Vickifor beta'ing this chapter for me. She's absolutely wonderful for helping me out.

P.S. - I absolutely promise this story gets more interesting in the next chapter.

BlondxCrayon


	9. When Worlds Collide

Standing Beside the Fallen

Chapter Nine - When Worlds Collide

It was early Sunday afternoon, and Harry found himself lying upside down in an armchair in Tonks's bedroom, watching the woman holding up new clothes she had bought for herself in the mirror. Tonks had turned the WWN on to a station that was called, "Classic Muggle Rock," and blasted rock songs from the eighties. Harry couldn't complain with Tonks's taste in music, because he found that he liked it himself, even if it was stuff that came out when he was two or three years old.

Harry sighed, and fixed his glasses for the fifth time, which were falling over his eyes and towards his eyebrows from his upside-down state. Tonks was currently holding up a skin tight ACDC shirt to her and twisting her body from side to side.

"How do you think this would look on me?" Tonks asked over the music, still looking in the mirror.

"You're asking me?" Harry said, attempting to raise an eyebrow but it was hardly noticed given his position. "Would it matter consider you're going to have robes on over them?"

"Yes it will matter," Tonks snapped, rolling her eyes at him. "Open robes, Harry! Jeez! You're lucky I've becoming your surrogate sister or else you would have no sense of style at all. That's why you're here right now, to learn style."

"Must I?"

"To be related to me, yes you do!" She said and threw the shirt on her bed and rummaged through another bag.

Tonks had just come back from shopping in London that morning and had come home with so many bags, it was a wonder she could carry them all. True, she had shrunk them all down to fit into her pocket for easier carry, but her pockets had been bulging so badly, the seams on her jeans had been ripping and she looked pretty funny. Harry wondered why woman needed so much clothing, since from experience with Aunt Petunia and Hermione, they never wore half of what they actually bought.

"What about these jeans?" She asked holding up a pair of jeans that were cut on the knees. Harry repressed a groan.

"Can I go downstairs and see what Sirius is up to?" Harry asked. Tonks shot him a glare.

"No, you may not," She answered. She stared into the mirror for a minute, eying her purple spiky hair that she had been wearing for a week. Sirius had told him that this was a record, but it seemed it was about to be broken. Tonks scrunched up her face and a second later her hair was longer, but still considered short. It was ebony black, just like Harry's and was just long enough to creep into her eyes. "I like it better shorter, less hassle."

Nevertheless she kept it the way it was.

"Now," Tonks said as she threw the new pair of jeans on the bed. "When I went shopping, I found this great little shop that had these really wonderful clothes. Of course they weren't for me, oh no. It was a men's store."

Harry's eyes widened. He flipped off the chair and landed awkwardly on the floor before straightening up and fixing his glasses. Tonks grinned at him.

"You didn't,"

Tonks rolled her eyes. "You really know me that little?" She said exasperatedly. "Here," She went over to the side of the bed and lifted five large packages on her bedspread. "Now, considering you wear clothes that are seven sizes too big for you and you are way to small and skinny for your age it was difficult to find your size but I'm sure I got it right,"

She looked inside a bag for a minute before pulling out a white sweater with a collar and zipper halfway down the front. Though Harry would never admit it to Tonks, he quite liked it, but since he had always been considered stubborn, he wasn't going to come right out and say it.

"I'm not wearing that!" He said indignantly. "I like my clothes baggy, thank you very much. They're comfortable,"

Tonks snorted. "Uh-huh," She said, it was clear that she didn't believe him. She reached back inside and pulled out a pair of blue faded jeans. "Go into the bathroom and try these on and then come and show me."

"I am not modeling for you!" He said folding his arms over his chest. "I refuse!"

"I told you I was going to give you a new image!" Tonks said. "My goal was to make you look fashionable and I'm doing it so chop-chop!"

"You're not going to let me leave until I do this, huh?" Harry sighed, looking longingly at the door behind her. Tonks smiled sweetly at him and Harry grabbed the clothes from Tonks and grumbled as he headed out of the room and into the bathroom, purposely closing the door with a snap behind him. She smiled in satisfaction and grabbed another shirt from the bed and held it up to her in the mirror.

Harry came out of the bathroom ten minutes later, blushing like mad as he showed Tonks how he looked in his new clothes. Tonks had literally squealed in excitement at seeing him, happy that the clothes she bought seemed to fit well, even if they were a bit baggy, though Tonks seemed to think this wouldn't be so once they fattened him up a bit.

"You look so good!" She said, as she folded his collar and fiddled with his zipper. "I like the white on you, and I have the same sweater in black too that should look good. I bought you a few more pairs of jeans that you should try on . . ."

"I'm not doing a bloody fashion show for you!" Harry said sounding horror-stricken. "I draw the line at one outfit. No more. And how many clothes did you buy me anyway!"

"Not much," She said heading over to the bag. "Just five pairs of jeans, five t-shirts, three sweaters, two sweatshirts a few pairs of pajamas and some underclothes. Oh and two pairs of shoes too."

Harry's jaw dropped. "You're nuts!" He said. "How much did all of this cost?"

"Don't worry about the costs, you are not paying me back this is a gift," She said and thrust several bags into his hand. "She then took another one and took out a pair of white shoes and thrust the bag into his already filled arms, "Consider it an early birthday gift. Go put those in your room and tonight you and I can have a little bon-fire with your old clothes after dinner."

Harry thanked Tonks for her generosity and headed out of the room and downstairs to his own bedroom. Once he dumped everything on his bed he sorted through it all, looking through all of the clothes she had bought him. Granted some of it were things he would never have thought of wearing, but he couldn't admit it was a bad sense of fashion. He sighed and put on his new shoes before heading down into the kitchen.

When he entered he found Sirius holding Kreacher the house-elf by the back of the loin cloth and shouting in his face. Harry quickly scrambled away from the door as Sirius headed towards it. He headed over to the table where Remus was sitting, along with Kingsley and Mrs. Weasley.

"Get out!" Sirius yelled and literally threw the elf into the hall before slamming the door. Sirius snarled in a very Snape like fashion and furiously ran his fingers through his hair.

"Why are you so mean to him?" Harry asked. "You didn't have to actually throw him out of the kitchen did you?"

Sirius sighed. "Kreacher is a little bugger who deserved it," Sirius grumbled morbidly. He then turned and stared at Harry seriously. "Stay away from him. I know I've told you before but just remember to keep away from that son of a -"

"Sirius!" Mrs. Weasley scolded. She gave him a dark look.

"I tell him to get out all the time and I throw him plenty enough times so that you'd think he'd get the picture by now," Sirius grumbled.

Mrs. Weasley scowled at him before turning and smiling at Harry, giving him a tight hug. "Harry dear, how are you?"

"Good, thank you," Harry said with a small smile, trying not to wince at the touch and managed just a small grimace.

This was the first time he had seen Mrs. Weasley all summer, and he knew that she wasn't aware of his abuse. If she was, she would have already burst into tears and would have refused to let go. Thankfully she let go after several moments and looked him up and down.

"You're too skinny for your own good," She said. "You need a good proper meal in you."

"Oh come on Molly, it's not like we starve him," Sirius said. "He could eat an entire hippogriff and chips and still not gain one ounce. Too blame us for his overactive metabolism."

"But still . . ."The woman muttered, "Anyway Harry, I talked to Professor Dumbledore and he agreed to allow the children to come for a visit on Saturday."

"That's great!" Harry said happily, looking at the calendar and seeing that it was only three days away.

Harry felt like for the past few days that he was going stir crazy without anybody his own age in the house. Sure, Sirius and Tonks both acted like they were fifteen, but technically it wasn't the same. He was lonely during Order meetings, or whenever people liked to get together and talk about him, which was something he actively chose not to participate in. He missed Ron and Hermione dearly, and was jealous of thought that they were spending so much time together and he was being left out.

And yet on the other hand, he was glad for the seclusion. He still didn't think he was ready to tell his friends yet about his uncle, or even with his connection with Voldemort. No matter how much he missed his friends, he was convinced that the two weeks he had spent with Tonks Sirius Remus and even Kingsley in the house had helped him heal. They had become like family to him, and they had become the adults that he so desperately needed to rely on.

"So Harry, I see you found your new wardrobe," Remus said smirking into his mug of tea. Harry glared at him.

"For your information she wouldn't leave me alone until I put it on," He said. "And then she tried to get me to try everything on! Woman," He added with a grumble under her breath. "She kept insisting on asking me how she looked in this shirt or those pants when it doesn't matter because she wears robes over them,"

Sirius threw his head back and laughed but Molly gave his arm a slap.

"Sirius, don't be so mean," She scolded. "All women do that, Harry. She probably wants to look nice for somebody special,"

"Tonks? Somebody special, eh?" Sirius grinned and looked at Kingsley. "Better get some new clothes yourself there Kingsley."

Kingsley looked up at Sirius with a raised eyebrow. "You honestly believe that Tonks likes me?" He said. A smile appeared on his face. "Honestly, Sirius that woman and I fight more than if you locked Dumbledore and You-Know-Who in a room together."

"Really?" Harry asked. In the entire time he had been here he had never seen Tonks and Kingsley fighting with each other. Considering that they were both Aurors and had a lot of the same work, Harry figured that they must have gotten along really well.

"Oh yes, mainly on work related terms however," He added. "Tonks is just too bigheaded for her own good."

"Tonks isn't bigheaded," Remus said quietly, shaking his head. "She has strong opinions and is as stubborn as they come. But she is also compassionate and caring as well and can be very level headed."

"Maybe to you she is," Sirius muttered bitterly. "But if you think she's level headed just remember this. Never tell her that her hair makes her look like a guy, especially when she has her period. You'll come out of it sporting some very colorful bruises."

"Er, Sirius, you're speaking from experience aren't you?" Harry said slowly. Sirius grinned.

"And you wonder why I was limping around for three days last week . . ."

* * *

Mrs. Weasley stayed long enough to help Remus and Harry with dinner before she had to head home and prepare supper for her own family. Harry was grateful that she had stopped by, and was literally bouncing on the balls of his feet at the thought of seeing his friends again. Not only that, but he was currently helping to cook his favorite meal, and everyone seemed to be in a good mood.

Harry sat down across from Remus and listened as Tonks and Kingsley got into an argument about Tonks's hair. Kingsley had asked Tonks to show him her original hair color and Tonks had refused, which led to Kingsley and Sirius making fun of her and calling her chicken. It was really funny to see Tonks face getting so red with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

"So Harry," Remus said once Tonks had '_accidentally_' spilled her mug of butterbeer on Sirius's lap and was grinning smugly. "How do you like your new look?"

Harry looked sheepish. "Don't tell Tonks, but I actually like it a lot. I'm grateful for what she did but I can never admit it to her face."

"I like it on you too, it makes you look older," Harry's eyes lit up and Remus laughed. "Wanting to impress somebody special?"

"Are you trying to ask me if I have a crush on somebody?" Harry asked. Remus merely grinned. "Well I don't. So I'm certainly not trying to impress anybody."

"You sure," Remus asked with a suspiciously knowing look on his face. Harry nodded. His mind was wandering back to Cho Chang, who had been Cedric's girlfriend, but now after everything that happened, he didn't feel the same tight knot in his stomach every time he thought about her. "If you say so,"

"Do _you_ have a crush Remus?" Harry said with a sly grin.

Remus looked up at Harry with a very cool look on his face as though he where suggesting to Harry that this was a very easy subject to discuss. Only somebody who had been around him constantly for the past two weeks and was very close to him could see past the mask. Remus was looking panicked, and Harry was grinning madly because of it.

"No, I do not have anybody in mind," He said and suddenly he looked saddened. "And besides, who would want a werewolf for a boyfriend or a husband anyways?"

"You'd be surprised, Remus, to see how many people are past such prejudices," Harry said with his head leaning on his elbows. His dinner had suddenly become abandoned in front of him as he stared at Remus seriously. "Just because you're a werewolf doesn't mean you're not a human being. You have the same likes and dislikes, personality traits and appeal as any other person here."

Remus shook his head. "You don't understand, Harry. You haven't been -"

"What?" Harry said, straightening up. "Not in your situation? Not different? I know how it's like to be different Remus. Just because you change once a month doesn't mean I see any less of you. Woman change once a month too, and its not like people de-humanize them."

They both stared at each other for a second before bursting out laughing. Everyone looked around at them curiously wondering what was so funny, but Remus brushed them back to their conversation and a minute later the attention was away from them again. Harry brushed the stray tears of laughter out from his eyes.

"Don't let Tonks hear you say that," Remus said quietly. "And I think a woman's cycle and being a werewolf is a little different from each other. Even if women are like unbearable monsters."

Harry snorted.

"Don't worry about anything Remus," Harry said as he went back to his dinner. "I'm sure when you meet the right person for you they won't think twice about you being a werewolf."

"I wouldn't be so sure,"

"Oh come on," Harry said. "I'll bet you ten galleons when you meet the perfect girl for you, they won't care,"

"Harry, I'm not going to bet -"

Harry merely held out his hand for a shake and Remus sighed. Sometimes Harry was just too stubborn for his own good. Remus took Harry's hand into his own and they shook.

"Ten galleons it is." Remus said smiling.

_'Now if you could only be more confident in yourself Harry rather than others, then we wouldn't have so many problems,'

* * *

_

After dinner, the group had retired into the living room and where playing a muggle game that Tonks had bought while shopping earlier that morning in muggle London. It was called _Scrabble_ and they had divided themselves into four teams of two. Sirius and Harry were together, along with Remus and Tonks, Kingsley and Mad-Eye and Emmaline and Mundungus. So far Mundungus and Emmaline were winning, but that was only because Mundungus was cheating and kept insisting that nonexistent words were those used by muggles.

"Dung 'flexdug' is not a word!" Sirius growled. "You can't use that!"

"It is a word!" Dung said bag, his basset hound eyes narrowing angrily. "I've 'eard people in Australia usin' it all the time!"

"When did you go to Australia?" Emmaline asked.

"Well . . . I didn't actually. But I've talked to 'em before! And they use that word!"

"You are such a cheater, dung!" Tonks said. "From now on you have to use normal words that we are all familiar with. Besides, I don't feel like looking up 'flexdug' in the dictionary right now."

Eventually, Dung had changed his word to flex and just taking off the ending. The game only ended when Tonks had gotten up to get another drink and had toppled the board to the floor. At that point Remus and Tonks had had the highest score so they had been declared the winner by default, even though Mad-Eye had grumbled that Tonks should have been disqualified for ruining the game in the first place.

"How do we know that wasn't deliberate?" He growled bitterly from his seat.

"Because it's Tonks," Sirius said in her aid. "She's always knocking things on the floor. She can't help it and it was an accident. She and Remus had the highest score so she won."

"If that hadn't been on my behalf than I would have hurt you," Tonks said giving the man an evil eye before turning to Mad-Eye and doing the same.

"I think Tonk's evil eyes are worse than Mad-Eyes fake one," Harry whispered into Sirius ear and he snorted.

"Too true, kiddo," He said quietly back and both started to grin like mad.

Harry went to bed a little while later, after being forced by Sirius and Remus. Both men had noticed over the past days that Harry had been very tired and practically falling asleep on his feet add odd periods of the day. They both tried to make it their job to make Harry go to bed early, even though they all knew there was a really good change he was going to have a nightmare. He hadn't had one last night but he did the night before, which had been a pretty violent one.

True enough, Harry woke up at around three in the morning, but for some odd reason he wasn't sure if it was a nightmare that had woken him or not. He had opened his eyes in a panic and felt the familiar sense of fear and dread in his stomach that he did when he woke up from every nightmare, but this time was different. He couldn't remember one detail of his nightmare, not an voices, sounds, colors or anything of the sort. The feeling of dread in his stomach didn't cease however and he was starting to become unnerved.

There was a tingling sensation on the back of his neck, like when you got when somebody was watching you. Harry quickly stumbled on the table for his glasses and slipped them on his face before taking hold of his wand. He knew like a sixth sense that he needed to wake up Sirius or somebody. Something was wrong, really wrong. But he couldn't place his finger on what exactly it was.

Slowly, Harry got up from bed and put on his shoes. Even before he had been wary of walking barefooted around the house, thinking he would step on something that he shouldn't. It was a likely scenario.

He headed to the door and slipped outside, his wand grasped in his hand. He quickly headed over to the staircase but saw nothing but darkness. The house was too silent for his liking. He couldn't hear the gurgling of pipes, the sounds of any grandfather clocks, Kreacher, or any person's snores. He turned back and placed his foot on the staircase, and suddenly felt rather than saw something behind him. He quickly turned and the next second he found himself ducked on the floor, a stunning spell grazing the tips of his hair. And worst of all, his wand had slipped his fingers and had rolled somewhere in the darkness.

"SIRIUS!" He screamed as a large black mass plunged from the darkness hurled towards him.

"_Silencio_!" He heard a rough voice hiss and the spell hit him in the small of the back.

"_Stupefy_!" They hissed again but Harry managed to roll away. He scrambled to his feet, but a hand caught his arm and Harry whirled around so fast it sent both of them to the floor and Harry saw the man's wand roll to the staircase and fall down the stairs. Harry scrambled to his feet as he heard people hurrying down the stairs and tried to dive away from his attacker but was caught around the ankle and he found himself sliding head first down several stairs while his attacker held his ankle firmly.

"Harry!" Somebody called from the stairs and the next second there where two stunning curses that Harry saw in the corners of his eyes. His attacker seemed very quick, because the next second he was on his feet and dragging a struggling Harry down the rest of his stairs. Harry tried to bite, kick and scratch his attacker, but it wasn't working well and the man was resisting any bodily harm Harry placed on him.

The person had found his wand on the floor and Harry found himself dragged down to the kitchen, with several running footsteps following them from behind, and several lights that Harry guessed were spells. When they reached the bottom of the kitchen stairs, Harry stomped on the attacker's foot and wriggled from the grasp and fell on his behind. He looked up to see a wand in his face and he caught a glimpse of his attacker before a stunning spell was sent right at him.

It was Professor Snape.

* * *

Authors Note: And the monotony is gone! The redundant use is gone as well (which was all significant by the way) and its starting to pick up pace so we can get past that ugly wall and into the even uglier one of Harry's capture. He's in a lot of trouble now, huh? Anyway, yes, no? Like it, don't like it? If you love me review. If you don't . . . well I hope you review anyway. My writers block is gone and muse came back from vacation so we're all fine now. I'm going to watch Harry Potter 4 Now for the third time today.

Thanks to Lucy for her beta'ness. And also to Vicki (again) for last week as well!

Yours,

BlondxCrayon


	10. Hell in a Hand Basket

Standing Beside the Fallen

Chapter Ten - Hell in a Hand basket

He wanted to die. There was no getting around it, nothing that could stall the solution that had formed in his head after hours and hours of pondering. It was plain and simple, and it had happened gradually as the pain came and stayed second after second, minute after minute . . . He wanted to die.

He didn't care if it was a painful death. He didn't even care if he died in a state of humiliation or in a blaze of glory. He just wanted to fall asleep and never wake up, but not in the coma type of way. He didn't want people hovering around him for years, hoping a miracle would take place and he would suddenly come alive again. He just didn't want to come back, but rather wanted to drift into blackness forever with no memories, or feelings, or anything. He just didn't want to exist anymore.

He remembered feeling this exact same way when he had been back at the Dursleys' earlier in the summer. The world had felt so detached and the situation so hopeless that he just didn't care if he lived or died anymore. Going with Remus to Grimmauld Place had conquered those thoughts in a heartbeat, but here they were again as he sat in the cold cell, shivering with cold and pain.

He couldn't be sure how long he had been here, because there was no daylight to tell him. Or more precisely, there was no light at all considering there was a blindfold over his eyes.

His hands had been painfully tied behind his back with a rope now covered in blood, and yes, being the Gryffindor that he was, he had tried to escape from its clutches and had failed miserably. He just didn't bother to? try anymore.

Giving up was not how he liked to put it exactly, his phrasing was more along the lines of letting the inevitable come. Obviously, no matter what he did, he was going to die; the situation was hopeless, so why fight? He'd rather just put on an impassive face and wait for a killing curse to come his way.

Voldemort would eventually get bored with him, and Harry hoped that it would be soon.

He had already been in for a few tortures since he had been kidnapped by Snape. He had counted four, so he was thinking that it could have been four days that he had been…wherever he was. The tortures were probably what had made him want to die in the first place. They sometimes made him believe that his uncle had actually had some mercy on him.

They were absolutely horrible.

He was still unable to move without causing sparks of pain through his body from the last one hours ago. It had been the worst yet, and he was sure his right eye was going to twitch continuously until he kicked the bucket. The nervous spasm had started after the second round of torture and hadn't stopped since. Harry found it to be a rather humiliating thing, so he was pretty lucky that his blindfold hadn't been removed yet.

After every round, his thoughts always turned to Neville Longbottom and what had happened with his parents. Professor Dumbledore had told him that they had been tortured by the Cruciatus Curse until they were insane. Exactly how many did they undergo to become that way? Harry sure had his fair share under his belt, and even though an average of seven per torture clearly wasn't enough, the numbers added up by day and would eventually make him insane, right? He shuddered, it wasn't a nice thought.

At odd times he found himself in a daze, not quite asleep, yet not quite awake, either. The lack of eyesight and light might have something to do with it. The lack of sounds around his cell (and he was certain he was in one) might also be a factor. And you had to add in that whole being too afraid to properly go to sleep thing. He could never hear anything until he heard a door in front of him opening (that was why he was positive they were using silencing charms) and that was always ominous enough to make him immediately alert. He didn't want to wake up to a Cruciatus curse; that would be even worse than Sirius's surprise wake ups on Remus.

Sirius.

The ache he felt at missing his godfather hurt worse than all of the Cruciatus Curses combined. He wasn't sure whether Sirius was looking for him or not, and if he was, he didn't seem to be very successful at it, but he missed his godfather. It was because of him that Harry had not begged Voldemort to kill him outright. He would be bold, like his father had been, and stand tall before Voldemort even though he had already been humiliated by the _Dark Lord_.

No, he would wait patiently for death, and welcome it when it arrived.

It was obviously an extremely difficult feat to accomplish, but he was doing pretty well so far. Cruciatus Curses were the least of his problems when it came to the torture; Death Eaters were an inventive lot. Potions were usually a very popular means of torture, some of which were filled with mixtures of acids and other things that caused him dire amounts of pain. Some liked to use the '_Mudblood Way' _as the Death Eaters so pleasantly called it, which was basically doing as Uncle Vernon had and kicking the crap out of him, or using knives to slowly cut into his skin. It hurt like hell at the time and stung for days afterwards, just like the potions. Thanks to the potions, he didn't think he'd be able to eat or drink anything properly again.

But the absolute worst torture had been introduced that very day. It was a new kind, which Voldemort's sadistic mind had created with the help of Severus Snape and a few other talented Death Eaters at his side. It was a potion that inflicted not physical torture, but mental torture.

This particular potion was called the Lucifer Draught. It was created to make the drinker relive his worst nightmare whenever he closed his eyes, and have him be able to feel every little hit and slap and bite, or anything the person was most afraid of. If the person's worst fear was cannibalism, he would be able to feel his body being ripped apart without anything actually physically happening to him (minus his thrashing).

Harry's worst nightmare had been his uncle.

He had felt the blows, the punches and kicks, the belt and the strangulation as if Uncle Vernon had been there to do it himself. He had even heard each and every filthy name from the man's mouth in his own ears. While the Death Eaters could not hear what Harry could or see what he saw, they watched as invisible blows smashed into his body, heard the screaming and saw the tears leaking through the blindfold. It was enough for their sick minds to be entertained by.

He had no doubt that even if his cell hadn't been freezing, he would still be shivering in the aftermath. He was convinced it was now permanently etched into his genetic make-up to shiver, even if it was a thousand degrees outside. Not that it mattered much, since he would only shiver in Voldemort's clutch until he died, but it was still annoying anyway.

He was pretty certain that if he somehow did manage to live, he would also remember the thick cement pole his hands were tied around, the feeling of the rope cutting off his circulation, the blood flowing between his fingers. He would always be able to feel the cold stone beneath his shivering body, and an ominous sense whenever it was quiet enough to hear his own breath. . .

Having nothing to do in his cell for so long had let him at least get a bearing on what his cell was like. He was pretty sure he could envision his cell without actually having to look at it. It felt more like a tiny stone closet than it did a cell. He was sure that it had a high ceiling because whenever the Death Eaters entered, there was an echo. But if he tried (which he hadn't since he first arrived, since he was in too much pain to move) he could spread out his legs and touch either side of the walls. The walls were definitely stone, and the floor cement. And judging from the stale air, he was sure there were no windows either. And the pole . . . Well, he figured it was just there to keep him tied up and rather annoyed.

He made the mistake of shifting, and hissed loudly in response. A spark of pain had shot up his spine and through his body, making his broken arm flare in agony, his ribs burn, and his head throbbing painfully. His ankle pulsated with each breath and every muscle and joint tightened at the aggravation of the movement.

Each day the pain got worse, and each day the yearning to die had increased. He wouldn't ask Voldemort to kill him, no, he would wait patiently. But he hoped to hell that it would come soon.

"I'm so sorry, Sirius," Harry whispered to the empty cell as he let his tears fall freely. "But there's nothing left for me to do but give up. I failed you."

It was impossible to tell exactly how long he had been inside his cell while quietly allowing the tears to fall. But he had also found that he didn't really care very much; as long as the Death Eaters and Voldemort did not see him crying, of course. He would never give them that satisfaction.

It wasn't long after Harry had stopped crying that he heard the ominous sound of the door creaking open. There were at least two sets of footsteps coming inside, and even though Harry tensed, he kept his head on his chest, unmoving. He had a faint hope that if they thought he was unconscious, they would just go away.

He wasn't that lucky.

Rough hands grabbed him, slicing the rope that bound his wrists and roughly set him onto his feet. He wasn't sure whether they knew or cared that he was conscious or not, since they were practically carrying him right now, but he didn't care. At least he didn't have to walk.

He counted three thousand and sixty steps, was hauled up seven staircases, and heard twelve doors opening and closing. How he was able to concentrate on that he would never know, but counting made the event that was about to happen less frightening. He was still scared to death, of course, but it did lessen.

The two Death Eaters supporting him stopped and tore the blindfold from his eyes before knocking him to his knees. Harry looked up, blinking fiercely at the unaccustomed light as his blurry gaze lingered on Voldemort himself, sitting on a winged back chair placed on a dais.

Harry was used to seeing this since this was where he was tortured each and every day.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter," Voldemort sneered. "And how are you on this very wonderful afternoon?"

_Well at least now I know what time of the day it is,_ Harry thought to himself as he stared daggers up at Voldemort and kept his mouth firmly shut.

"Today, my fellows, is the start of a new beginning," Voldemort hissed, his hands clasping the arms of his chair firmly, and a smile planted on his pale face. "Some of you in this circle are parents to children or teenagers who are soon to follow within my footsteps. Some of you may be familiar with Lucius's son, Draco."

Harry's eyes widened as his head snapped around to stare at the circle behind him. Sure enough, amongst the followers there was a smaller one, at least a head shorter than the two beside him. Draco lifted his mask from his impassive face, not daring to look Harry's way.

"We welcome you, Mr. Malfoy," Voldemort hissed, rising from his chair and stepping down from the dais. Draco immediately fell to his knees and when Voldemort stopped in front of him, he started to kiss the hem of his robes. Harry wanted to be sick.

_I guess the old phrase is true,_ he thought, _the apple really doesn't fall far from the tree._

"Lucius has informed me that he thinks you still a little young to join the immediate ranks," Voldemort said. "And I happen to agree. Usually we do not allow underage _children_ into our ranks, but Lucius has insisted you are well up on your training.

"And this is why I have called you here. In front of your father, who is no doubt very proud of you at the moment, my young charge, you will prove yourself. I want you, Draco Malfoy, to lead the torture of our young Mr. Potter here."

All attention was roughly brought back to him as Draco stood up properly and finally turned his gaze to Harry. Harry stared back at him and was a little surprised at what he saw in silver eyes. There was none of the usual cold anger that he saw every time they had encountered each other at Hogwarts since first year. No, his gaze had changed to cool determination and . . . nervousness?

"You are familiar with the Cruciatus Curse, are you not, Draco?" Voldemort asked, steering him forward by the shoulder.

"Yes, master," Draco replied in a quiet voice, stepping forward with his wand out.

* * *

Ron Weasley sighed as he passed the living room window and looked out at the dark clouds circling above. The horizon predicted a heavy rain would be coming soon. The Weasley children's plans of Quidditch in the afternoon was no doubt cancelled now.

Rain had to ruin everything.

He sighed and sat down in the armchair beside the fire with a sneer. Hermione was, predictably, busy reading in the chair, her bushy hair hiding her face from view. Ginny was on the floor reading a magazine with a mouth full of drooples.

The sound of thunder made Ron groan as he looked out the window again and saw a flash of lightning. Hermione looked up from her book and gazed out the window as well, then looked back at Ron.

"You're waiting to see Hedwig, aren't you?" she said knowingly, and Ginny looked up from her magazine too.

"No!" he answered defensively. Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Yes," he admitted dejectedly.

"I'm sure he's okay," Hermione said. "Maybe his uncle isn't allowing him to send letters again. There could be a thousand explanations - "

"You don't know Harry's relatives, neither of you do," Ron shot back. He opened his mouth to say something else, but a loud cracking sound made him jump in his seat and he scowled up at Fred and George, who merely grinned back.

"Must you apparate into every room?" Ron asked moodily.

"Yes," they both chimed together. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Did we happen to hear something about Harry?" Fred asked. "We were in the kitchen until mum and dad came home and kicked us out."

"You were spying on our conversation?" Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Not spying," George said. "Listening with a keen ear. There's a difference."

"We couldn't help but overhear your conversation about Harry, and we happen to agree with Ron," Fred added. "You two weren't there a few years ago when we went to get him in that flying car, remember? He had been locked in his bedroom for days on end with hardly any food, locks on his doors and bars on his windows."

Hermione's mouth opened wide and then she looked over at Ron crossly. "Why you didn't tell me this?"

"It wasn't our secret to tell, Hermione," George answered with a shrug. "It was Harry's."

"If you say he hasn't written for a few weeks then you have the right to worry. I am too, as a matter of fact," Fred said.

"I have this feeling," Ron said, "that something bad happened. I've had it all summer but . . . It's stronger now. Something is going on, and we can't do anything about it. I sent a letter to him with Pig two days ago, and it came back unopened. At least before, he actually got the letters, even if he didn't answer …"

The group sat in silence for a few moments before it was broken with the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley entering through the fireplace. Nobody would have minded much, if it hadn't been for the fact that Mrs. Weasley looked as if she had been crying, and Mr. Weasley looked terribly solemn. Both parents had been leaving for emergency Order meetings at odd parts of the day for the past few days, and the children were curious. Seeing their distraught faces was not helping their curiosity.

"Mum, what's wrong?" Ginny asked, standing up from the floor.

"Sit down dear," she said, brushing her daughter's hair. "We need to tell you all something."

Hermione looked uncomfortable. "Perhaps I should go upstairs and - "

"No, Hermione," Mr. Weasley said, putting a hand on her shoulder before she could get up from her seat. "You have to know this too. We're just sorry we have to tell it to you."

"What is it?" Ron asked quietly, watching as his mother wiped her tears away on her handkerchief with a fresh sob.

"We just came from an Order meeting at headquarters. It was an emergency meeting, and as you can tell there have been a lot within the last four days. I'm not sure whether he told you or not, but Harry was staying at Headquarters with Sirius, Professor Lupin, and a few others."

Hermione swallowed thickly. "Was?"

"What happened to Harry?" Ron asked, feeling the dread already forming in his stomach. It felt like he had just swallowed a rather heavy rock.

"Four days ago, Professor Snape entered the headquarters and took Harry before anybody could stop him. We don't know where Professor Snape took him, or why, but Professor Dumbledore is certain that he was taken to the Dark Lord."

There was a collective gasp from everybody in the room before Hermione and Ginny started to sob. George immediately drew Ginny into a hug as she clung onto him, and he seemed to be fighting tears of his own. Hermione rushed over to Ron and drew him into a tight hug, but Ron was too numb to feel it.

He had known that something was going on and that it involved Harry. He had been scared for his best friend, and that sense of fear had only been increasing for the past couple of days, but he hadn't thought that something like _this_ was going to happen!

"The Order has been trying everything in the past few days to locate him, or in the very least have a lead, but so far there is nothing," Mr. Weasley said gravely.

"So Harry could be dead for all Dumbledore knows," Ron said bitterly, and he felt Hermione tense. "He could be dead and none of us knows!" Ron furiously got to his feet. "I told you about Snape! I told you he was a Death Eater! I told you that he couldn't be trusted! And now look what Dumbledore has gotten Harry into! Harry had enough going on, and now because of Snape he could be dead!"

"Ron!" Mr. Weasley scolded.

"No, I'm not listening to you!" Ron shouted. "You never listened to me!" He then rounded on Hermione. "You told us we were being stupid! You told us that just because he was a professor that we should trust him! That because Dumbledore trusted him, we should trust him! Well, you know what, Hermione! YOU WERE WRONG!"

He turned and ran up the stairs, refusing to look back as his father called after him. It didn't matter anymore if he was in trouble. Harry was gone, and he wasn't ever coming back.

* * *

Draco didn't dare show it in front of his father, but he was petrified. This morning when his father told him he was going to bring him to his first meeting, he was thrilled and full of nervous anticipation. He had wanted nothing more than to prove to his father that he could follow properly in his footsteps and make him proud. He had been waiting anxiously for this moment to arrive.

And now it had.

The moment he had stepped inside the castle, he could smell the putrid scent of fear and death. His father had told him that this would be a defining moment in his life, the one that took him from childhood and led him into manhood. So he didn't say anything when he felt the ball of fear start to squirm in his chest. Malfoys were never scared, and to tell his father he was afraid at such an important time would probably lead to a few slaps in the face.

Draco had tried to mentally prepare himself, but all he was able to do was keep his infamous Malfoy mask on his face, and remember to get on his knees and kiss the hem of the Dark Lord's robes when he stood before him. He could feel the entire chamber's eyes on him, making him even more nervous, especially Potter's.

Potter.

Luckily, Draco had been wearing a mask on his face; otherwise he would have given away his shock the moment he'd seen the other boy. Potter looked horrible, and from what his father told him, he had been there for a mere four days. He was covered in blood and bruises, and looked too weak to stand on his feet. Usually Draco would sneer at this, but then he remembered what he had been brought here to do.

He was supposed to torture Potter himself.

Ever since that first meeting on the train, Draco had truly hated Harry with every ounce of feeling he could muster. He had hated everything about Potter from his fame down to his messy black hair. But as much as he hated Harry, he didn't think that even he deserved this. Potter was still a kid, just like he was, and didn't deserve to be here just as much as he himself did not. And even though he loathed the boy, Potter didn't deserve to be tortured by the Dark Lord either. He didn't deserve to die so young. He might hate Potter, but he didn't want him to die.

He got up enough courage to look Potter in the eye, and when he saw the pain and betrayal lingering behind them, he wanted to turn and run away more than ever. He was expected to torture his fellow classmate, for Merlin's sake! Sure, they had had several fights over the years, but they had never hurt each other more than a simple stinging hex, or at worst a weak cutting hex that did nothing more than give a paper cut. They had been cruel to each other, humiliated each other, but never did he wish Potter dead. And he was sure that Potter thought the same about him.

"You are familiar with the Cruciatus Curse, are you not, Draco?" the Dark Lord said, and Draco nearly shivered when he felt the long fingers steering him forward, out of the circle and right in front of Potter.

"Yes, Master," he spoke quietly, so that his voice would not quiver like his nerves were. He fingered his wand in his pocket, thinking of the moment of truth. Everybody in the room was watching him, waiting for him to make a move as he raised his wand in preparation, yet he still did not know what he was going to do.

"We're waiting, Draco," Voldemort hissed. "It's very simple. Enjoyable, even."

Draco mentally snorted. He doubted torture would ever be enjoyable for him, and it was because of this that he realized the absolute truth. He wouldn't torture Potter, because he didn't have it in him to do that to people. And especially to Potter, who looked broken, sitting on the floor and waiting for the impending pain. He couldn't do this. He wouldn't do this.

He turned back to his father, breathing quickly. "I'm not doing it," he said, sounding far braver than he actually felt. He saw the warning signs in his father's eyes, but he ignored them. He didn't want this, and his father wouldn't make him do it.

"Draco," his father hissed. "Do not disappoint me."

"I'm sorry, father," he said, his wand dropping to his side. "But I can't do this, and I won't. "

"Lucius," Voldemort hissed and this time Draco did shiver. "You and your son are dismissed. I will call upon you privately at a later date to discuss this." He turned to Draco.

"And as for you, Mr. Malfoy," Voldemort said, running a long finger along Draco's pale cheek. "Keep in mind that nobody denies Lord Voldemort. I will call again once you have your affairs in order. Hopefully, this attitude of yours will prove nothing more than childish ideas due to by your young age, and your head will clear. Now get out of my sight."

Draco glanced over at the Dark Lord, not daring to breathe before looking back at his father. The cold fury was evident in his eyes, and Draco felt the fear inside of him spike. He strode forward and grabbed Draco hard by the back of his neck, and pulled him around towards the door.

"You will pay for that Draco," his father hissed. "You will regret that. You are a disappointment to me and you embarrassed me in front of the Dark Lord. How _dare _you? You will pay!"

Draco twisted to look back around at Potter and saw him still on the floor, but his eyes followed him out of the chamber. As Draco watched him, he saw Potter give a brief nod and mouth one word to him that he caught distinctly, '_Dumbledore'._

Draco gave a slight nod back, understanding what he had meant. Before he was pulled from the chamber completely, he mouthed, '_Luck'_. As the door closed behind him and his father pulled him down the hall, Draco flinched when he heard Harry's screams of pain rising behind him.

If he survived his father's fury towards him, he knew what he had to do. He was going to go to Dumbledore, tell him everything he know, and ask for protection from not only the Dark Lord, but from his father as well.

* * *

Authors Note: ((Stumbles backwards as a chorus of _finally_ reaches her ears)) I realize it's been forever and I apologize. But the chapter is here so at least you have it, right? Anyway, Sirius Remus and Tonks are coming in the next chapter, so they are not excluded. (Remus/Tonks too). So please review and tell me what you think! 


	11. The Stranger in the Pub

Beside the Fallen

Chapter Eleven - The Stranger in the Pub

* * *

Remus stumbled in through the fireplace, tripping over his feet from an endless exhaustion. The lamps seemed to have burnt themselves out as sunrise arrived just one hour ago, and the only person in the kitchen was Tonks, who seemed to be fast asleep at the table. Exhausted, he fell into a seat at the table, which jerked Tonks from her sleep.

"Wha . . ?" Tonks said, blinking away the sleep from her eyes. Her gaze shifted to Remus before she quickly sat up. "Remus, when did you get back?"

"Just arrived," he said, slumping in his seat.

"How was it?" Tonks asked sympathetically, heading up to the stove to get Remus a cup of tea.

"The wolfsbane helps a lot, more than you would ever know," Remus said. "But it doesn't stop the pain when you transform. Unfortunately, magic only goes so far."

Tonks gave him a sympathetic smile.

"How was everything here? Any updates?" he said, trying not to make his voice sound too hopeful.

"No," she said bluntly, handing him some tea and sitting down on the bench beside him. "There isn't any more leads since yesterday morning, and even that was a dead end. Molly had to put a potion in Sirius's tea to get him to sleep last night. He's going to be furious for it, but he was running himself ragged, hasn't sleep in days . . ."

Remus pushed the tea away and buried his face in his hands.

"It seems so hopeless," Remus murmured. "I mean, if we couldn't find anybody who disappeared in the last war, what chances do we have now? I know I have to be positive for Sirius, but I can't help . . ."

Tonks put her arm around Remus and gave him a sideways hug. "I know how hard it is, Harry was - is - like my little brother, and I only knew him for a few weeks. But we can't give up, Harry needs us."

Remus gave a sob and quickly sucked in his breath, blinking at the wall. He wasn't usually so keen on showing his emotions in front of other people. The last time he had done so, it had been back at Hogwarts in his fifth year. It had been the day after his transformation, and Severus had seen him and was nearly killed . . .

"Remus, we'll get him back," Tonks whispered.

Remus turned to her.

"You don't know that for sure," Remus said. "I'm sick of being positive, but what chance do we have if I'm not?"

"It's hard, I know," Tonks whispered. "I've been trying to do the same thing . . ."

"Every time something seems to be getting a little better, it has to be snatched away from me. A few years ago when Pettigrew was caught, we thought Sirius would be free and he just escaped again . . . Harry had to go back to the Dursleys after Sirius promised him a home . . . Harry comes here with us and gets kidnapped . . . Now Sirius and I don't know what to do . . ."

Tonks rubbed Remus's shoulder in a comforting way.

"Did I ever tell you about the time when I was teaching and Harry thought Severus was poisoning me?" Remus asked with a watery smile.

"No, but I'd love to hear it," Tonks said.

Remus took a sip of his tea and started to speak, but his voice was cut off by the blaze of the fireplace, and Kingsley quickly stepped out, looking as if he had just run a marathon.

"We have a lead," he said, panting heavily. "Need to get there . . . Now . . . Bring Sirius . . ."

Without wasting breath, Remus and Tonks jumped up from the table together and got to work. Remus ran up the stairs, not bothering to be quiet as he passed the portrait of Mrs. Black, which started to scream, and Tonks ran around, grabbing the cloaks.

"I tried to find Dumbledore, but I couldn't locate him," Kingsley said. "We'll have to check this lead out on our own and report back to him later."

"Where did you find this lead?" Tonks asked incredulously.

"Don't ask me, Mad-Eye found it," Kingsley said. "And you know that that man has a tendency to locate a toothpick in a field with no magic whatsoever. He said he'd meet us there."

Remus and Sirius came bolting back into the kitchen at that moment, and Tonks had to wonder just how Remus had managed to wake Sirius up so quickly. But it was short lived as the group quickly gathered around in a circle.

"Whoever put me to sleep, I'll kill you later," Sirius growled. "Now where to?"

"Apparate in back of the Hanged Man, a pub in Little Hangelton." Kingsley said. Together with a chorusing pop, the group left the kitchen in a trice.

* * *

The Hogs Head was usually a place where the more colorful kinds of wizards and creatures came to get a drink or two . . . or a dozen. On that particular summers night, the Hogs Head held its usual crowd, with some wizards passed out in a drunken haze, others hidden under cloaks despite the warm weather to conceal their identities, and others exchanging packages and sacks of unidentified objects, which the bartender pretended to pay no notice to. 

So it wasn't unusual when a black cloaked figure entered the pub and immediately took a seat in the corner. He sat stiffly, not moving a muscle, his eyes drawn to the door, waiting for the one person he had asked to meet to come walking through the door. He sat like that for at least five minutes before the door opened again and Albus Dumbledore walked in. He looked around and spotted the black cloaked figure in the corner before taking a seat across from him.

"Headmaster."

Dumbledore gave a brief nod and a smile. "Interesting place for a meeting, the Hogs Head. It's a most perceptive place, because when you look around, you never know who anybody really is." Dumbledore turned and glanced at a man who was passed out on the table next to them. "Perhaps, for a meeting such as this we should meet somewhere more appropriate, in other words, my office."

Dumbledore reached into his robes and pulled out a golden pocket watch and held it out. The cloaked man hesitated.

"Trust me, Draco."

Draco stared at Dumbledore's face, unsure of exactly what was about to happen. However he knew that if he didn't trust Dumbledore, there would be nobody to trust. He had come this far, he couldn't turn back now. With a deep breath, he placed his hand on the pocket watch and the two disappeared with a pull at their navels.

They landed in the middle of Dumbledore's office and Draco stumbled uncertainly before quickly regaining his composure. Dumbledore pretended not to notice as he walked around his desk and sat in his chair, his gaze penetrating through Draco like a knife.

Draco sighed and lowered the hood of his cloak to reveal his face, and Dumbledore only blinked to show his surprise. Draco's face was a mess. His right eye was swollen and his chin held a visible purple bruise. His lip was cut and his nose showed signs of recent bleeding.

"My father hasn't been happy with me recently," Draco said, taking a seat across from the headmaster with his gaze cast down.

"You explained to me in your letter that you had made a terrible mistake. And yet, you also said you had several things that you wanted to tell me."

"I do, sir," Draco said quietly.

"Well please my boy, do go on," Dumbledore said. "As important as I know this will be, there are matters that need my attention at the moment."

"I know that, sir," Draco said. "I know that Potter was kidnapped and is with the Dark Lord right now. I saw him."

Dumbledore did not look too surprised, but did not speak as he motioned for Draco to continue.

"Last night my father opted to take me to my first meeting with the Dark Lord. He told me that even though I was young, he wanted my impressions to come from the age when he had first murdered, my age. So he took me, and I was really nervous, but I thought I was ready. I wanted the power that my father had said the Dark Lord had brought him. I wanted to mean something, especially to my father."

Draco paused for a second to gather himself before continuing.

"But when I arrived . . . I couldn't do it. I saw Potter, and . . . I was asked to torture him. I couldn't . . . I refused. The Dark Lord let me go this one time but . . . My father didn't. They tortured Potter anyway, and I'm sure that because of me, they tortured him worse than I would have."

"What was Harry's condition when you saw him?" Dumbledore asked.

"He looked horrible." Draco whispered, shaking his head. "There was something about him when he stared me in the face. It was his eyes, they looked . . . dead. He just looked so defeated, that it was scary to look at him. He was just . . . _covered_ in blood."

Dumbledore didn't say anything, but the look on his face made him seem as if he had aged in a brief three seconds. He sagged slightly in his seat and Draco noticed a glassy look in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, sir," Draco said. "If I could give you any information on where to find Potter I would, but I don't know where my father apparated me to. And I'm sure Professor Snape has told you what the castle he's currently in looks like. I wish I could be of more help,"

"No harm, child, no harm," Dumbledore said. "I understand that you don't want to be a Death Eater and therefore you cannot go home,"

"No, sir," Draco said. "I was hoping that you could help me,"

"At the moment, Draco, I'm not too trusting of Death Eaters, even ones who aren't officially under the mark yet," Dumbledore said and Draco spared a confused look before putting a blank mask on his face. "However, I think I'll be able to trust the honesty in you that I mistakenly trusted within Severus Snape,"

"Professor Snape?" Draco said curiously.

"Indeed, my boy," Dumbledore sighed. "It was Severus who kidnapped Harry and brought him to the Dark Lord."

"Professor Snape?" Draco repeated very loudly, not in awe, but more in surprise. "But that can't be right. At the very beginning of the meeting, before Potter was brought in, the Dark Lord was praising Aunt Bellatrix for getting Potter."

"Bellatrix Lestrange?" Dumbledore said slowly.

"Yes," Draco said. "Professor Snape wasn't mentioned at all. I'm not even sure that he was at the meeting. Sir, why did you think it was Professor Snape?"

"We had three eye witnesses tell us that Severus entered the house and took Harry," Dumbledore said, staring at the desk in deep thought.

"Professor, you don't think . . ." Draco said startled.

"Alas, I think I have made quite a dire mistake."

* * *

Remus apparated into a dark alley, and felt Tonks stumble against his shoulder. He quickly grabbed her shoulders to steady her, and felt her grateful smile rather than seeing it through the shadows of early morning. He slowly stepped out of the alley and looked around to see an empty street. The only living thing around seemed to be an old man asleep on the bench across the road.

"Talk about a happy little town," Kingsley muttered, and Remus blinked around at his surroundings. It really was a dingy looking town, looking as if there were more poorly constructed building than there were people.

"It gets even better," said a voice behind him. Remus jumped and turned, whipping his wand out, only to let out his breath at seeing Mad Eye hunched in front of him. "Jumpy today, Lupin?"

"What do you mean it gets better?" Tonks asked with a scowl on her face.

"We're in the abandoned side of town. Mainly where the homeless like to sleep," Mad-Eye nodded to the old man asleep on the bench before giving off a disturbing chuckle. "It gets better as we take a little skip down the road. Now come on, and keep your wands pointed in front of you."

Mad-Eye led the group down the road, which seemed much too long for Remus's liking. Usually the night after a full moon he would sleep well into late afternoon, and right now his body was running on pure adrenaline. He wasn't sure if his body could handle any sort of fight that they might find themselves in, but Remus had to. He would do anything if it meant getting Harry safe, and if he had to make some sacrifices, it was well worth it.

As they made their way up a dirt path which led into a steady incline, Remus could see Tonks staring at him from the corner of his eyes. He turned to her with a raised eyebrow.

"Are you alright?"

Tonks blushed. "Fine," she said, and quickly took to observing the area, squinting in the light to look through the shadows of a shaded brush.

A minute later they stopped upon the top of the hill, right outside an old and unsafe looking mansion, covered in ivy and decorated with broken windows. The group was silent for a minute before Mad-Eye raised his wand and led them up the path. They were hardly a foot onto the property when Mad-Eye stopped dead, sending Tonks tripping over him but she quickly recovered and pointed her wand forward.

"Somebody's over there," Mad-Eye whispered. Remus squinted and saw the shadow of a body lying on the grass, very still. It looked as if the person was -

"HARRY!" Sirius roared and quickly ran forward.

"Sirius, no!" Kingsley shouted, reaching for his arm but Sirius was already tearing across the lawn. Remus ran after him, followed by the others, hoping beyond everything that the person lying over there wasn't . . . but it was.

Harry was lying face down on the grass, blood running down the back of his neck as he lay so still that Remus didn't think it was possible for him to be alive. Sirius collapsed to his knees and started yelling Harry's name as he turned him over. Lifeless green eyes stared back.

"NO! HARRY PLEASE! PLEASE DON'T BE DEAD, NO!" Sirius roared, shaking the body roughly. Remus felt his insides turn to ice and it seemed impossible to move.

Harry was -

A mad cackling laughter made Remus jump back into himself and he turned around just in time to see five Death Eaters apparating in a row right in front of him. The shock was short lived as he quickly grabbed onto Sirius' arm to keep him from doing anything out of pure rage.

"Aww, is my ickle cousin sad because he saw his godson dead?" Bellatrix mocked, and cackled with glee when Sirius made to attack her, before he was physically restrained by Remus and Kingsley.

"You murdered him, you disgusting evil little bi - "

A chorus of laughter drowned out the rest of Sirius' curses, and the laughter only made Sirius angrier, making it harder for the two of them to hold on. Tonks jumped forward and grabbed Sirius around the middle to help, yet the man continued to struggle against them.

"A very clever trap," Mad-Eye said. "Where's the real Potter?"

Sirius stopped struggling and looked at Mad-Eye a look akin to pure hope in his eyes.

"For all we know, he probably really is dead," Malfoy said casually, twirling his wand in his fingers. "Yet that isn't the point now, is it? Why would we want to chatter on about that useless boy? I am a business man and as such, I like to get right down to business, and therefore I will.

"The Dark Lord is sick of you meddling fools interfering with his work and has sent word that he wants you all dead before supper."

"Don't worry, cousin," Bellatrix cooed. "You and Potter will both meet each other again in the afterlife,"

This time there was no stopping him. Sirius wrenched out of the three grips and rushed forward, a killing curse erupting from his wand before he even had the chance to take a step forward. The spell rebounded back at them and Remus quickly dropped to the ground, feeling the curse graze the hair on his head. He had just enough time to see a silvery mist fly from his wand before turning and running head first into the fight.

And the battle was on.

* * *

"I feel that I can trust you, Draco," Dumbledore said. "Trust you enough to protect you. You are still a child, no matter what your father sees, and I took an oath years ago never to abandon a child in need. However, there are consequences to this kind of decision.

"We will have to face the matter of emancipation, which can take months for the request to be answered. Then there is the matter of your protection, where you will stay. There is one place that will protect you, but it will require some sacrifice on your part. Most particularly, you will have to get over your rivalries and call a truce with your enemies."

Draco stiffened. He only had several enemies, and the only ones he could think of at the time that related to this situation were a handful of Gryffindors.

"How long will this arrangement be in place?" Draco forced out. It was a hard choice in whether he wanted to spend the summer with his father, or with a bunch of Gryffindors.

"Just until school starts. We will come up with a better arrangement during the year," Dumbledore said. Draco sighed, biting his lip. "Alright," he said after a few moments. "I'll do it,"

"Excellent," Dumbledore said, standing up, heading over towards the window. "There are a few things you have to be informed of before you enter there, however. Firstly . . . "

Draco waited for Dumbledore to continue, but when he did not, he turned around in his seat. Dumbledore was standing the middle of the office, staring down at what looked like a patronus. Draco had only seen two in his life, one of which had been sent by Potter at the Quidditch match (in which he hadn't seen the actual shape) and when his father had conjured a jaguar for him to observe last year in their mansion. Draco watched Dumbledore stare at the patronus for a moment before quickly taking out his wand and heading for the fireplace.

"Draco, there is an emergency I must attend to and I will be back shortly," Dumbledore said. "The doors and fireplace are warded so that you may not leave unless of an emergency." He waved his wand and a thick armchair with a table of sandwiches and pumpkin juice appeared in the middle of the office. "Eat and rest, and when I come back I will explain the rest of your living arrangements."

Without another word, Dumbledore grabbed some floo powder and with a flick of his hand he was gone. Draco stared after him for a moment, before shaking his head and looking around the room. What just happened?

He headed over to the chair slowly and stared down at the plate of sandwiches. He was far from hungry, but he couldn't remember the last time he ate, so he slowly picked up a sandwich and started to eat.

It was after eating for about ten minutes that something in the corner of the room caught his eye. He looked over and saw a soft white glow leaking in through a partially opened cabinet. Draco stared at it for a second before getting up and slowly heading over to the cabinet. He knew that it was rude to pry, and that Professor Dumbledore would be furious at him, but his curiosity once again got the better of him.

He slowly opened the cabinet and his eyes widened when they fell onto a jewel encrusted basin, with swirling contents that were neither liquid nor solid. It was a pensieve.

"Merlin . . . ' Draco whispered as he stared inside, his head getting closer to the bowl, his fingers running over the jewels on the side. He had never seen a pensieve in real life before, but had read all about them in a book his mother had bought him for Christmas last year.

Draco jumped when suddenly the contents started to swarm faster and his eyes widened. As he squinted into the contents, colors started to form and suddenly a face appeared in the bowl. Oddly enough, it was the face of the Divination teacher, Professor Trelawney. When she opened her mouth to speak, it did not come out as the melodramatic drawl she used in class, but a deeper voice that was very much unlike her own.

_"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches . . . "

* * *

_

Sirius dodged a killing curse as it blasted the trunk of a tree behind him. His wand was moving fast in front of him as he tried to take on two Death Eaters at once, and did it rather well in his opinion. That was until Remus came flying out of nowhere and tackled one of them as they rolled across the lawn, going into their own battle. That left Sirius with the shorter of the pair, who sent a stunner at him.

"A stunner? What are you, twelve?" Sirius jeered.

The next curse sent at him was a Cruciatus, which was quickly blocked and rebounded. The Death Eater cackled at him.

"Oh, come on, Sirius, your godson can do better than that!"

Sirius paused for a split second before he saw red. He sent the stronger Cruciatus Curse he could muster and watched the blinding light hit the Death Eater in the chest as he writhed on the ground and started to scream. Sirius quickly hurried forward, dodging a stray curse from the battle around him and grabbed onto the Death Eater as the curse ended and he tried to wriggle away.

Sirius grabbed the Death Eater's wand and snapped it in half before throwing it across the courtyard. Neither one of them registered the battle around them halting with the appearance of Albus Dumbledore, didn't notice the scramble as the half of the Death Eaters that were not bound Apparated away. Instead, Sirius growled as he tore the mask off of the Death Eater and a malicious grin spread across his face.

"Hello, Peter . . . "

* * *

Authors Note: So how'd I do? I really wanted to post this yesterday, in honor of the 1 year HBP and my 17th birthday, but I got it late to my beta, but late is better then never. I'll try to get the next chapter out sooner, I promise. Thanks for waiting, and please tell me how you liked this. What do you think of Draco in the story? 


	12. The Bright Side in a Bad Situation

Standing Beside the Fallen

Chapter Twelve - The Bright Side in a Bad Situation

Harry had decided that being held captive was far less scarier when he was wearing a blindfold. When they had forgotten to place the blindfold on him after his torture that day, Harry had become prone to jumping at every little shadow, whether it be the flicker of a torch or the shadow of a mouse. It didn't help that the Death Eaters had placed him in a new cell, this one slightly bigger than the other, and just large enough that the corners were shadowed. Every few minutes Harry would turn around in fear as though expecting to see Voldemort or a Death Eater hidden in the shadows with their wand raised at him.

Against his better will, Harry had started to find himself blacking out at very odd times, coming back to himself when his body jerked in a muscle spasm or he heard footsteps. He was pretty sure that these blackouts were not a good sign.

He tried to shift his weight off of a horrid bruise on his back, but the movement sent a spark of pain down his back and he stopped moving. It was pointless anyway, no matter where he moved, it would immediately turn uncomfortable three seconds later.

Footsteps brought Harry back to himself and he started to panic. His breath quickened and his head started to whirl, but he forced his face into a show of no emotion. Inside, he quaked with fear - outside, he could be carved from stone with all the emotion he was showing.

There was something a little different about the footsteps approaching the cell this time. There were at least two people coming towards him, but their pace was slow, and there was a sound as though something heavy were being dragged on the stone floor.

Harry's thoughts turned to only one possibility.

Another prisoner . . .

A Death Eater appeared in front of his cell, his mask firmly in place, yet Harry could practically see the smirk glowing right through it. He waved his wand at the cell and the door opened with a loud creaking noise.

"Are you sure the order was to put him with Potter?" The Death Eater asked.

Another man came into view, dragging a large thin torso with him. The Death Eater threw the prisoner into the cell, chuckling as it landed in an awkward heap. Whoever it was, they were clearly unconscious.

"Yep," The other Death Eater answered, wiping his hands together in satisfaction. "The orders had come from the Dark Lord himself."

"Whatever you say, Mate,"

The cell closed, and Harry was thankful to note that the Death Eaters hadn't even bothered to turn their heads towards him during the entire ordeal. Now Harry was left alone once again, but this time, he was alone with company.

Harry tried to look through the gloom to figure out who exactly was it the Death Eaters had thrown into his cell. Whoever it was, they appeared to be very tall and pale, if their hand had any indicator.

The man (Harry assumed it was a man) groaned softly and jerked, but fell still once again. So still in fact, that Harry actually thought the man had just died right in front of him. Slowly, he reached out his leg and jabbed the arm of the man.

"Touch me again, Potter, and I'll kill you myself,"

Harry quickly drew back his leg and stared at the man with wide eyes. He didn't have to be able to see the man's face to recognize that snappish voice.

What was Snape doing in a holding cell?

...0o0...

Draco stared inside the basin long after the memory had disappeared. His jaw was slack and his gray eyes watched the swirling colors without interest. He was sure with the heavy silence in the room that was happening that he could hear his own heart through his chest.

_The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal . . . _

That seemed to only qualify for one person he knew of, and of course the entire world knew that this person was born at the end of July, the very end on the thirty first in fact. But it couldn't be . . .

_Potter_ was the one who had to defeat the Dark Lord? _Potter, _who was currently in the Dark Lords hands? If this . . . Prophecy as he guessed was true, than the world was already doomed. Not even Potter could manage to get out of the Dark Lords grasp in a situation like this. He may have done it before but . . . Now, Draco just wasn't so sure.

Realizing what would happen if Dumbledore caught him in such a precarious position, Draco quickly closed the door and headed back to his seat slowly.

_Things sure were just as interesting on this side of the fence._

He decided for at least now, he would keep this information to himself. It seemed obvious that this was a serious bit of information, and that not many people knew about it. He would eavesdrop on the subject later.

Draco jumped as the fireplace came back to life, and Dumbledore stepped out of gracefully. Draco watched as he turned towards the fireplace and waited as though expecting something to happen. And it seemed he was, for no more than four seconds later, ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher Remus Lupin entered through, holding an odd assortment of a giant black dog and a jar with a rat in it.

Draco's eyebrows rose in curiosity and amusement.

Lupin looked over and saw Draco sitting at the table and his own exhausted and lined face mimicked Draco's for a moment before smiling politely.

"Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again," He said.

Draco was sure he was lying.

"Professor," Draco said politely.

"Remus, if you would have a seat and allow me to see inside that jar, I would be very pleased," Dumbledore said with a knowing smile. Remus handed over the jar and sat down in a chair beside Draco. "And you," Dumbledore said, looking down at the dog. "May transform back."

_Animagus! _Draco's mind immediately screamed as he watched the dog look between himself and Dumbledore.

"Do not worry, I trust Mr. Malfoy to hold this secret," The animagus barked and Dumbledore gave him a stern glance before in the blink of an eye, the dog transformed into a tall and rather haggard black haired man.

Draco snorted. "Figures,"

Black turned and glared at Draco. "What the hell is he doing here?"

"Draco is here on my behalf. I trust him just as much as I trust the two of you. He is young, still a boy, and yet he is already facing the pressures of his father and Lord Voldemort himself. Draco decided to choose wisely, and he chose the path that both you and I follow. Therefore, he asked ask for a safe haven away from his father and I have offered him one."

"Are you telling me I have to let _him_ live in my house?"

Draco held back a groan, but he couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes.

"That is exactly what I am asking of you Sirius. Draco already knows his limitations and is just waiting for consent."

"Pardon the interruption," Draco said planting a sneer on his face. "But I wasn't informed I was going to be living with a mass murderer."

"It was the topic we were about the discuss before I was called away," Dumbledore said sitting at his desk. "Sirius is innocent of all charges and the proof to that is currently stunned in this jar here,"

"Your evidence is a sewer rat?" Draco said, sounding as though he thought the entire room had gone mad. Black made a noise in the back of his throat like a growl and Dumbledore chuckled.

"Why yes, a rat," Dumbledore said. "For you see in this room we have two animagus's. Sirius over here, and this rat, otherwise known as Peter Pettigrew."

"It's a long story Draco, but I promise you, Sirius will not harm you in any way," Remus put in.

Draco stared between Black and the rat. "Okay, let's say I'm stupid enough to actually believe this story for a second. Wouldn't you" He pointed to Black, "Be proclaimed innocent if this were true?"

"Not if I just caught him ten minutes ago," Black said with a roll of his eyes. "Now if you are finished with your stupid questions, I would like to get to the point in this meeting where that rat is woken up and tells us his information on how to find Harry,"

_Okay, _Draco thought, _So apparently Black is innocent and a rat killed everybody, or Peter Pettigrew who is dead might I add, and also Black knows Potter and cares about him since he wants to know if Pettigrew has information on him . . . Yep, things definitely don't get boring around here._

Dumbledore unscrewed the jar and took the rat out by the tip of its tail and placed it on the floor. He then proceeded to roll up his sleeve before pointing his wand at the rat. Without a word, a blue light shot from Dumbledore's wand and encased the rat. There was a second where everything seemed to pause, before, the rat slowly started to grow into a man.

Peter Pettigrew sat on the floor, holding his head and looking around the room blearily. Draco stared at him with his mouth slightly opened, not believing what he was seeing.

"Well I'll be damned," Draco said, and Peter looked over at him and his eyes widened.

"So, Peter," Sirius said, pointing his wand at the man, which quickly shot out ropes to bind him. "Tell me where Potter is,"

"S-Sirius," Peter stuttered. "P-please,"

"Tell me and maybe I wont kill you right away," Sirius hissed. "Now I'm only going to ask one more time. Where. Is. My. Godson?"

Pettigrew gave a yelp before a high pitched sob escaped his throat and he started to bawl. Draco rolled his eyes at the cowardice at the man, and he was sure he was not the only one.

"S-Sirius you have to und-understand," Pettigrew gasped. "We - we weren't a-allowed to know where the D-da-dark Lord was, only to touch our marks and apparate!" He gave another shuttering sob before a loathing glare from Black forced him to continue.

"He - he's in a c-cell in the basement!" Pettigrew cried. "He's t-tied and blindfolded and is only let out for t-tortures,"

"You've given us nothing we don't already know, Peter," Dumbledore said, in a such a cold and angry voice that Draco jumped. He never heard Dumbledore talk like that before, and it sent shivers down his spine.

"P-p-please don't hurt me," Pettigrew wheezed.

"We may think it over if you give us some information that we can use," Sirius said. "Lets start with by how to get to Voldemort's hideout,"

"I d-don't know!" Pettigrew said, and yelped when the tip of Sirius's wand was placed at his temple. "Okay, okay, okay! H-he's in the middle of a f-forest in Ireland! I-I-its all I know I swear!"

Remus sighed and watched Pettigrew whimpering on the floor.

"Do you know how much forest is in Ireland?"

Black sat back onto his heels and covered his face with his hands. Draco knew he was growing really frustrated, but there seemed to be a hue of emotion glowering off of him like a light.

"Let's get him to the Ministry," Dumbledore said and Pettigrew was quickly stunned. "Sirius I believe it's a good idea for you and Remus to head back to Grimmauld Place until I come to fetch you for the Ministry. If you'd be so kind as to take Draco with you and show him his room?"

Sirius got up without a word and quickly flooed away, not looking back once. Remus gave Draco a smile before taking some floo powder for himself.

"Call for Number Twelve Grimmauld Place," He said to Draco before shouting it into the flames and disappearing. Draco turned to Dumbledore.

"Potter's really important, isn't he Professor? That's why Black is so desperate to get him back,"

"Harry is important, yes, more than you can know. But that's not why Sirius and the entire Order of the Phoenix are looking for him so hard. They do it because they love Harry for who he is. Not for his importance,"

Draco raised his eyebrow at Dumbledore, who only smiled back.

"Now I believe its time for you to head to your new residence, and for me to head to the Ministry," Dumbledore said. "And don't worry about your things, I promise they will be delivered by nightfall."

Draco nodded, his face set. "Thank you Professor, for everything," He said before grabbing some floo powder.

"Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place!" He called, and immediately he was sucked into the green swirling flame.

...0o0...

Harry watched as Snape slowly moved himself into a sitting position, groaning in pain as he moved. He flinched whenever Snape growled in annoyance at his lack of function, or jumped, wincing from the pain in his own body when Snape cried out. At one point Harry was watching Snape struggling to move his leg, and the next moment, he blinked and Snape was perfectly at the wall.

"Had enough entertainment for the day Potter?" Snape growled in annoyance, obviously not overjoyed at the fact that Harry was not only in the same cell as him, but watching his every move. Harry didn't bother with any sort of answer.

Snape snorted.

"Of course not," He muttered and turned to face the bars of their cell. He winced as he moved his neck and only let off a small noise of pain.

"It's your fault I'm in here, you know that Potter?" Snape said without looking at him. "Not only can you not keep yourself out of trouble, but you had to drag me into it all too."

Snape sighed and stared straight ahead again, looking as sour and loathsome as ever.

"How?"

Snape slowly turned to look at Harry, with his eyebrows raised. The boys voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, and so hoarse that it came out as almost a grunt, but Snape heard him perfectly in the silent chamber. After a moment of staring at each other, Snape actually gave off a smirk. Harry flinched at the sight of Snape's face and quickly closed his eyes.

"I'm surprised at your stubborness Potter," Snape said. "I knew how many tortures you received, but even I didn't think that you'd actually still be sane enough to speak." Snape stopped for a moment. "I was asked to kidnap you. To bring you here. I was suspected. When I didn't act immediately, I was impersonated by Lestrange, who could easily break into Headquarters. How she knew you were there I've yet to learn. She looked like me, took you, and I ended up here. A spy caught in the act."

Harry didn't want to open his eyes to see the bitterness on Snape's face. He was the reason Professor Snape would die in this cell, just like he would. As much as he hated the man before, he couldn't bring himself to draw any feeling towards his usual curt potions master except for regret.

"Time?" Harry rasped out hoarsely, and winced. A deep cough rattled his chest, jolting his body and he suppressed a scream into a moan, not even realizing something wet was running down his chin.

"You think I know what time it is, boy?" He said with a deep scowl.

Harry winced and took a deep breath. "Long,"

Snape looked confused for a minute before understanding dawned on him. "You've been here for five days, almost six,"

Harry closed his eyes, not having the energy to keep them open any longer. It had felt like so much longer, and it had only been five days? His heart fell when he allowed the truth to sink into his mind - he wouldn't last more than a day.

His eyes snapped open when he heard movement around him and he quickly searched the chamber for a third party but found none. Instead, he saw Snape gathering himself to his feet before limping over to where Harry was tied. Harry held his breath and screwed up his face, flinching away as the man grew closer. It wasn't until he felt gentle hands on his wrist that he opened his eyes and realized Snape was untying him.

Neither of them uttered a word as Snape worked the ropes, his fingers slipping from the fresh blood coating, but finally the man had untied him and his arms fell weakly to the floor. Harry slowly pulled himself upright and dragged his body painfully to the corner before settling down and closing his eyes. His body shook with a few rattling coughs before finally seeming to rest.

"Here,"

Harry looked up and saw a vial in Snapes hand and a cloak in the other. Harry weakly raised an eyebrow and Snape sighed.

"A restorative that should help you feel better. I had it on me to give to one of the Dark Lords followers on request, but due to my - _situation -_ it was never received. Fortunately, it wasn't taken off of me, nor my cloak when my wand was taken."

"You sure?" Harry breathed.

"Just take it Potter," Snape sighed in a more defeated than snappish tone. Snape uncorked the vial and held it at Harry's lips who carefully took small sips until the vial was gone. Immediately, Harry felt a ghost like strength returning, just enough for him to be able to talk almost normally.

"Thank you," Harry said as Snape placed the cloak over his body. "It wasn't necessary you know, I'm just going to die anyway,"

"Such a morbid outlook Potter," Snape said as he sat down, facing the boy.

"It's the truth isn't it?" Harry sighed. "I'm as good as dead right now. They just keep me alive for show. We both know it."

Snape didn't answer, nor did Harry expect him to. Instead, Harry turned his gaze away from Snape and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall and gripping the cloak tightly around him.

For some reason, Harry could help but feel disappointed at the professors lack of response. A tiny glimmer of hope had been shining inside of him, just thinking that maybe Professor Snape would be able to save him like he had done so many times in the past. Because even though the two hated each other, over the years Harry seemed to have grown a small bit of trust for the man.

_I guess if Professor Snape can't get me out of here, the only other person who might be able to is Dumbledore. And if Dumbledore knew where he was, he would have already come._

...0o0...

Draco found himself stepping out of the fireplace and into a dim and dingy looking kitchen. Draco immediately grew a huge dislike for the cramped and dirty kitchen and watched as Lupin sat down at the table and withdrew his wand.

"Would you like a cup of tea, Draco?" Lupin asked.

"No thanks," Draco said as he carefully stepped to the door. "I'm going to go upstairs for a while I guess . . . Where's my room?"

Remus thought for a moment. "I'm guessing that you can choose between any of the rooms on the third floor. Just don't open the last two because we haven't gotten a chance to clean them and we don't know what is actually living in there,"

Draco nodded slowly before turning.

"Oh and Draco," Lupin said, and Draco turned around. "Be very quiet in the entrance hall,"

Draco raised an eyebrow but nodded anyway before turning and heading up the stairs. He was sure that he didn't want to know.

He slowly climbed the steps at a sluggish pace as he looked around. He gave a second glance over to the amount of mounted house elf heads on the wall, and shuttered. Why ever would somebody have a collection as sick as that?

He paused when he reached the second floor and looked through the crack of one of the bedrooms. He watched as Black emerged from the room, not even noticing him as he headed upstairs, looking to be in a horrible mood. Draco didn't move until he heard Black moving around upstairs before heading to the room.

Draco slowly slipped into the room and found it to be an ordinary bedroom. On the nightstand was a pair of black glasses that Draco knew belonged to Potter. He sighed when he saw them, his mind flashing back to the look of defeat Potter had had on his face. Draco gave a small sigh as he turned his eyes away and fell on Potter's trunk.

An idea slammed into him so suddenly that he blinked in shock. He remembered a few years ago in Hogsmeade as Potter's head floated in the air, he himself wiping mud off of his face thrown by a disembodied spirit . . . Or Potter under his invisibility cloak.

Draco quickly opened Potter's trunk and sorted through it. He looked under the piles of clothes, books and crumbled parchment and quills until he reached the bottom, where a cloth was just visible under a thick volume. He pulled it out and looked at the invisibility cloak before setting it into his pocket.

He had just closed the trunk and sat up before he jumped a mile high at hearing a voice behind him.

"I wouldn't be caught in here if I were you,"

Draco turned and blinked in shock at seeing a woman with violent pink hair standing behind him. He quickly glanced at his pocket to make sure the cloak wasn't showing before looking back at the woman.

"Sorry, I was just . . . Er . . . Looking for my room," Draco lied.

"You must be Draco," She said. "I'm Tonks. I was told you'd be staying here for a while. No, your room is somewhere upstairs, I'd wager. This room though, its off limits."

"I understand," Draco said.

"I hope you do," Tonks said. "Because if Sirius catches you in here, you'll probably get kicked out, despite what Dumbledore says."

"I wouldn't get kicked out," Draco said pompously. "So what if I look around? It's not like I'm conducting any dark activity,"

"Try telling that to Sirius," Tonks said with a small shake of her head. "For as long as I've known him he's been very overprotective of his friends and who he cares about. Sirius is Harry's godfather, so obviously he would be overprotective of Harry anyway. But Harry's had a hard time lately, so Sirius has been even more attached to him. And when he was taken . . . Well even though Sirius is wanted by the Ministry, he's been out every day looking for him."

Draco nodded. He doubted that if Draco were in the same situation, his father would hardly lift a finger to try and find him.

"So what I'm trying to say is, if Sirius catches you here, messing with Harry's stuff, he isn't going to be happy. He'll be irrational and toss you into the floo without a second thought. So wotcher,"

With that, she turned around and walked away.

Draco quickly headed out of the room and closed it behind him as he breathed a sigh and looked after Tonks. He stood for a moment looking as if he were debating something before taking a deep breath, and with a determined face, he walked upstairs.

...0o0...

Authors Note: Another chapter up and running. Please review and tell me what you think about this story, what you like and don't like, or what you want to see in the story and I'll see what I can do. This is the unbeta'ed version, considering that my beta seemed to be on some sort of hiatus. When I get it for her, I will repost it to be more grammatically correct. I apologize for that.

PS - Cutoff lines dont work right now, so im not being random with the whole ...0o0... thing


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